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This  BOOK  may  be  kept  out  TWO  WEEKS 
ONLY,  and  is  subject  to  a  fine  of  FIVE 
CENTS  a  day  thereafter.  It  was  taken  out  on 
the  day  indicated  below: 


The  Second  Jungle  Book 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2012  with  funding  from 

University  of  North  Carolina  at  Chapel  Hill 


http://www.archive.org/details/secondjunglebookkipl 


The    Works    of    Rudyard  JGpling 


The  Second  Jungle  Book 


Decorated  by 
John  Lockwood  Kipling,  C.  I.  £. 


New  York 

The  Century  Co. 

1899 


Copyright,  1895,  by  The  Century  Co. 


How  Fear  Came,  The  Law  of  the  Jungle  ; 

The  Miracle  of Purun  Bhagat,  A  Song  of  Kabir; 

The  Undertakers,  A  Ripple-song. 

Copyright,  1894,  by  Bacheller,  Johnson  &  Bacheller. 

Quiquern,  "Angutivun  tina." 
Copyright,  1895,  by  Irving  Bacheller. 

The  Spring  Running,  The  Outsong. 
Copyright,  1895,  by  John  Brisben  Walker. 

Letting  in  the  Jungle,  Mowgli's  Song  Against  People. 
Copyright,  1894,  by  Rudyard  Kipling. 

Red  Dog,  Chil's  Song. 
Copyright,  1895,  by  Rudyard  Kipling. 

The  King's  Ankus,  The  Song  of  the  Little  Hunter. 
Copyright,  1895,  by  Tne  Century  Co. 


"Now  these  are  the  Laws  of  the  Jiingle, 

and  many  and  mighty  are  they ; 

But  the  head  and  the  hoof  of  the  Law 

and  the  haunch  and  the  hump  is — Obey  /  " 


do 
T 

t 


CONTENTS 


PAGE 


How  Fear  Came i 

The  Law  of  the  Jungle 29 

The  Miracle  of  Purun  Bhagat 33 

A  Song  of  Kabir 61 

Letting  in  the  Jungle 63 

Mowgli's  Song  Against  People 112 

The  Undertakers 115 

A  Ripple-song 155 

The  King's  Ankus 157 

The  Song  of  the  Little  Hunter 191 

Quiquern 193 

"  angutivun  tina  " 234 

Red  Dog      237 

Chil's  Song 281 

The  Spring  Running 283 

The  Outsong     321 


THE 
SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 


The  stream  is  shrunk — the  pool  is  dry, 
And  we  be  comrades,  thou  and  I ; 
With  fevered  jowl  and  sunken  flank 
Each  jostling  each  along  the  bank; 
And,  by  one  drouthy  fear  made  still, 
Foregoing  thought  of  quest  or  kill. 
Now  'neath  his  dam  the  fawn  may  see 
The  lean  Pack-wolf  as  cowed  as  he, 
And  the  tall  buck,  unflinching,  note 
The  fangs  that  tore  his  father's  throat. 
The  pools  are  shrunk — the  streams  are  dry, 
And  we  be  playmates,  thou  and  I, 
Till  yonder  cloud —  Good  Hunting  ! —  loose 
The  rain  that  breaks  the  Water  Truce. 


r^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ 


HOW   FEAR   CAME 


HE  Law  of  the  Jungle — 
which  is  by  far  the  old- 
est law  in  the  world — 
has  arranged  for  almost 
every  kind  of  accident 
that  may  befall  the  Jun- 
gle People,  till  now  its 
code  is  as  perfect  as  time 
and  custom  can  make  it. 
If  you  have  read  the  other  book  about  Mowgli, 
you  will  remember  that  he  spent  a  great  part  of 
his  life  in  the  Seeonee  Wolf- Pack,  learning  the  Law 
from  Baloo,  the  Brown  Bear;  and  it  was  Baloo  who 
told  him,  when  the  boy  grew  impatient  at  the 
constant  orders,  that  the  Law  was  like  the  Giant 


2  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

Creeper,  because  it  dropped  across  every  one's 
back  and  no  one  could  escape.  "When  thou 
hast  lived  as  long  as  I  have,  Little  Brother,  thou 
wilt  see  how  all  the  Jungle  obeys  at  least  one 
Law.  And  that  will  be  no  pleasant  sight,"  said 
Baloo. 

This  talk  went  in  at  one  ear  and  out  at  the 
other,  for  a  boy  who  spends  his  life  eating  and 
sleeping  does  not  worry  about  anything  till  it 
actually  stares  him  in  the  face.  But,  one  year, 
Baloo's  words  came  true,  and  Mowgli  saw  all  the 
Jungle  working  under  the  Law. 

It  began  when  the  winter  Rains  failed  almost 
entirely,  and  Ikki,  the  Porcupine,  meeting  Mowgli 
in  a  bamboo-thicket,  told  him  that  the  wild  yams 
were  drying  up.  Now  everybody  knows  that 
Ikki  is  ridiculously  fastidious  in  his  choice  of 
food,  and  will  eat  nothing  but  the  very  best  and 
ripest.  So  Mowgli  laughed  and  said,  "What  is 
that  to  me  ?  " 

"  Not  much  now'''  said  Ikki,  rattling  his  quills 
in  a  stiff,  uncomfortable  way,  "but  later  we  shall 
see.  Is  there  any  more  diving  into  the  deep 
rock-pool  below  the  Bee-Rocks,  Little  Brother?" 

"  No.  The  foolish  water  is  going  all  away, 
and  I  do  not  wish  to  break  my  head,"  said 
Mowgli,  who,  in  those  days,  was  quite  sure  that 


HOW   FEAR   CAME  3 

he  knew  as  much  as  any  five  of  the  Jungle  Peo- 
ple put  together. 

"That  is  thy  loss.  A  small  crack  might  let  in 
some  wisdom."  Ikki  ducked  quickly  to  prevent 
Mowgli  from  pulling  his  nose-bristles,  and  Mow- 
ofH  told  Baloo  what  Ikki  had  said.  Baloo  looked 
very  grave,  and  mumbled  half  to  himself:  "  If  I 
were  alone  I  would  change  my  ^hunting-grounds 
now,  before  the  others  began  to  think.  And  yet 
—  hunting  among  strangers  ends  in  fighting; 
and  they  might  hurt  the  Man-cub.  We  must 
wait  and  see  how  the  mohwa  blooms." 

That  spring  the  mohwa  tree,  that  Baloo  was 
so  fond  of,  never  flowered.  The  greeny,  cream- 
colored,  waxy  blossoms  were  heat-killed  before 
they  were  born,  and  only  a  few  bad-smelling 
petals  came  down  when  he  stood  on  his  hind 
legs  and  shook  the  tree.  Then,  inch  by  inch,  the 
untempered  heat  crept  into  the  heart  of  the 
Jungle,  turning  it  yellow,  brown,  and  at  last 
black.  The  green  growths  in  the  sides  of  the 
ravines  burned  up  to  broken  wires  and  curled 
films  of  dead  stuff;  the  hidden  pools  sank  down 
and  caked  over,  keeping  the  last  least  footmark 
on  their  edges  as  if  it  had  been  cast  in  iron ;  the 
juicy-stemmed  creepers  fell  away  from  the  trees 
they  clung  to  and  died  at  their  feet ;  the  bamboos 


4  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

withered,  clanking  when  the  hot  winds  blew,  and 
the  moss  peeled  off  the  rocks  deep  in  the  Jungle, 
till  they  were  as  bare  and  as  hot  as  the  quivering 
blue  boulders  in  the  bed  of  the  stream. 

The  birds  and  the  monkey-people  went  north 
early  in  the  year,  for  they  knew  what  was  com- 
ing ;  and  the  deer  and  the  wild  pig  broke  far 
away  to  the  perished  fields  of  the  villages,  dying 
sometimes  before  the  eyes  of  men  too  weak  to 
kill  them.  Chil,  the  Kite,  stayed  and  grew  fat, 
for  there  was  a  great  deal  of  carrion,  and  even- 
ing- after  evening  he  brought  the  news  to  the 
beasts,  too  weak  to  force  their  way  to  fresh  hunt- 
ing-grounds, that  the  sun  was  killing  the  Jungle 
for  three  days'  flight  in  every  direction. 

Mowgli,  who  had  never  known  what  real  hun- 
ger meant,  fell  back  on  stale  honey,  three  years 
old,  scraped  out  of  deserted  rock-hives  —  honey 
black  as  a  sloe,  and  dusty  with  dried  sugar.  He 
hunted,  too,  for  deep-boring  grubs  under  the 
bark  of  the  trees,  and  robbed  the  wasps  of  their 
new  broods.  All  the  game  in  the  Jungle  was  no 
more  than  skin  and  bone,  and  Bagheera  could 
kill  thrice  in  a  night,  and  hardly  get  a  full  meal. 
But  the  want  of  water  was  the  worst,  for  though 
the  Jungle  People  drink  seldom  they  must  drink 
deep. 


HOW   FEAR   CAME  5 

And  the  heat  went  on  and  on,  and  sucked  up 
all  the  moisture,  till  at  last  the  main  channel  of 
the  Waingunga  was  the  only  stream  that  carried 
a  trickle  of  water  between  its  dead  banks ;  and 
when  Hathi,  the  wild  elephant,  who  lives  for  a 
hundred  years  and  more,  saw  a  long,  lean  blue 
ridge  of  rock  show  dry  in  the  very  center  of  the 
stream,  he  knew  that  he  was  looking  at  the  Peace 
Rock,  and  then  and  there  he  lifted  up  his  trunk 
and  proclaimed  the  Water  Truce,  as  his  father  be- 
fore him  had  proclaimed  it  fifty  years  ago.  The 
deer,  wild  pig,  and  buffalo  took  up  the  cry 
hoarsely  ;  and  Chil,  the  Kite,  flew  in  great  circles 
far  and  wide,  whistling  and  shrieking  the  warning. 

By  the  Law  of  the  Jungle  it  is  death  to  kill  at 
the  drinking-places  when  once  the  Water  Truce 
has  been  declared.  The  reason  of  this  is  that 
drinking  comes  before  eating.  Every  one  in  the 
Jungle  can  scramble  along  somehow  when  only 
game  is  scarce ;  but  water  is  water,  and  when 
there  is  but  one  source  of  supply,  all  hunting  stops 
while  the  Jungle  People  go  there  for  their  needs. 
In  good  seasons,  when  water  was  plentiful,  those 
who  came  down  to  drink  at  the  Waingunga — or 
anywhere  else,  for  that  matter — did  so  at  the  risk 
of  their  lives,  and  that  risk  made  no  small  part  of 
the  fascination  of  the  night's  doings.     To  move 


6  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

down  so  cunningly  that  never  a  leaf  stirred  ;  to 
wade  knee-deep  in  the  roaring  shallows  that 
drown  all  noise  from  behind  ;  to  drink,  looking 
backward  over  one  shoulder,  every  muscle  ready 
for  the  first  desperate  bound  of  keen  terror ;  to 
roll  on  the  sandy  margin,  and  return,  wet-muzzled 
and  well  plumped  out,  to  the  admiring  herd,  was 
a  thing  that  all  tall-antlered  young  bucks  took  a 
delight  in,  precisely  because  they  knew  that  at 
any  moment  Bagheera  or  Shere  Khan  might  leap 
upon  them  and  bear  them  down.  But  now  all 
that  life-and-death  fun  was  ended,  and  the  Jun- 
gle People  came  up,  starved  and  weary,  to  the 
shrunken  river, — tiger,  bear,  deer,  buffalo,  and 
pig,  all  together, — drank  the  fouled  waters,  and 
hung  above  them,  too  exhausted  to  move  off. 

The  deer  and  the  pig  had  tramped  all  day  in 
search  of  something  better  than  dried  bark  and 
withered  leaves.  The  buffaloes  had  found  no  wal- 
lows to  be  cool  in,  and  no  green  crops  to  steal.  The 
snakes  had  left  the  Jungle  and  come  down  to  the 
river  in  the  hope  of  finding  a  stray  frog.  They 
curled  round  wet  stones,  and  never  offered  to 
strike  when  the  nose  of  a  rooting  pig  dislodged 
them.  The  river-turtles  had  long  ago  been  killed 
by  Bagheera,  cleverest  of  hunters,  and  the  fish 
had  buried  themselves    deep    in    the    dry    mud. 


HOW   FEAR   CAME  7 

Only  the  Peace  Rock  lay  across  the  shallows  like 
a  long  snake,  and  the  little  tired  ripples  hissed  as 
they  dried  on  its  hot  side. 

It  was  here  that  Mowgli  came  nightly  for  the 
cool  and  the  companionship.  The  most  hungry 
of  his  enemies  would  hardly  have  cared  for 
the  boy  then.  His  naked  hide  made  him  seem 
more  lean  and  wretched  than  any  of  his  fellows. 
His  hair  was  bleached  to  tow  color  by  the  sun ; 
his  ribs  stood  out  like  the  ribs  of  a  basket,  and 
the  lumps  on  his  knees  and  elbows,  where  he 
was  used  to  track  on  all  fours,  gave  his  shrunken 
limbs  the  look  of  knotted  grass-stems.  But  his 
eye,  under  his  matted  forelock,  was  cool  and  quiet, 
for  Bagheera  was  his  adviser  in  this  time  of 
trouble,  and  told  him  to  go  quietly,  hunt  slowly, 
and  never,  on  any  account,  to  lose  his  temper. 

"  It  is  an  evil  time,"  said  the  Black  Panther, 
one  furnace-hot  evening,  "  but  it  will  go  if  we  can 
live  till  the  end.     Is  thy  stomach  full,  Man  cub  ? " 

"  There  is  stuff  in  my  stomach,  but  I  get  no 
good  of  it.  Think  you,  Bagheera,  the  Rains  have 
forgotten  us  and  will  never  come  again  ? " 

"  Not  I !  We  shall  see  the  mohwa  in  blossom 
yet,  and  the  little  fawns  all  fat  with  new  grass. 
Come  down  to  the  Peace  Rock  and  hear  the  news. 
On  my  back,  Little  Brother." 


8  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

"  This  is  no  time  to  carry  weight.  I  can  still 
stand  alone,  but — indeed  we  be  no  fatted  bul- 
locks, we  too." 

Bagheera  looked  along  his  ragged,  dusty  flank 
and  whispered:  "Last  night  I  killed  a  bullock 
under  the  yoke.  So  low  was  I  brought  that  I 
think  I  should  not  have  dared  to  spring  if  he  had 
been  loose.      Won  !  " 

Mowgli  laughed.  "  Yes,  we  be  great  hunters 
now,"  said  he.  "  I  am  very  bold — to  eat  grubs," 
and  the  two  came  down  together  through  the 
crackling  undergrowth  to  the  river-bank  and  the 
lace-work  of  shoals  that  ran  out  from  it  in  every 
direction. 

"  The  water  cannot  live  long,"  said  Baloo,  join- 
ing them.  "  Look  across.  Yonder  are  trails  like 
the  roads  of  Man." 

On  the  level  plain  of  the  further  bank  the  stiff 
jungle-grass  had  died  standing,  and,  dying,  had 
mummied.  The  beaten  tracks  of  the  deer  and  the 
pig,  all  heading  toward  the  river,  had  striped  that 
colorless  plain  with  dusty  gullies  driven  through 
the  ten-foot  grass,  and,  early  as  it  was,  each  long 
avenue  was  full  of  first-comers  hastening  to  the 
water.  You  could  hear  the  does  and  fawns  cough- 
ing in  the  snuff-like  dust. 

Up-stream,  at  the  bend  of  the  sluggish  pool 


HOW   FEAR   CAME  9 

round  the  Peace  Rock,  and  Warden  of  the  Water 
Truce,  stood  Hathi,the  wild  elephant,  with  his  sons, 
gaunt  and  gray  in  the  moonlight,  rocking  to  and 
fro  —  always  rocking.  Below  him  a  little  were 
the  vanguard  of  the  deer  ;  below  these,  again,  the 
pig  and  the  wild  buffalo ;  and  on  the  opposite 
bank,  where  the  tall  trees  came  down  to  the  water's 
edge,  was  the  place  set  apart  for  the  Eaters  of 
Flesh — the  tiger,  the  wolves,  the  panther,  and  the 
bear,  and  the  others. 

"We  are  under  one  Law,  indeed,"  said  Ba- 
gheera,  wading  into  the  water  and  looking  across 
at  the  lines  of  clicking  horns  and  starting  eyes 
where  the  deer  and  the  pig  pushed  each  other  to 
and  fro.  "  Good  hunting,  all  you  of  my  blood," 
he  added,  lying  down  at  full  length,  one  flank 
thrust  out  of  the  shallows  ;  and  then,  between  his 
teeth,  "  But  for  that  which  is  the  Law  it  would  be 
very  good  hunting." 

The  quick-spread  ears  of  the  deer  caught  the 
last  sentence,  and  a  frightened  whisper  ran  along 
the  ranks.    "The  Truce!    Remember  the  Truce  !" 

"  Peace  there,  peace  !  "  gurgled  Hathi,  the  wild 
elephant.  "  The  Truce  holds,  Bagheera.  This 
is  no  time  to  talk  of  hunting." 

"Who  should  know  better  than  I  ?  "  Bagheera 
answered,  rolling  his  yellow  eyes  up-stream.     "  I 


io  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

am  an  eater  of  turtles — a  fisher  of  frogs.  Ngaa- 
yah  /  Would  I  could  get  good  from  chewing 
branches  !  " 

"  We  wish  so,  very  greatly,"  bleated  a  young 
fawn,  who  had  only  been  born  that  spring,  and 
did  not  at  all  like  it.  Wretched  as  the  Jungle 
People  were,  even  Hathi  could  not  help  chuck- 
ling ;  while  Mowgli,  lying  on  his  elbows  in  the 
warm  water,  laughed  aloud,  and  beat  up  the  scum 
with  his  feet. 

"Well  spoken,  little  bud-horn,"  Bagheera 
purred.  "When  the  Truce  ends  that  shall  be 
remembered  in  thy  favor,"  and  he  looked  keenly 
through  the  darkness  to  make  sure  of  recognizing 
the  fawn  again. 

Gradually  the  talking  spread  up  and  down  the 
drinking-places.  One  could  hear  the  scuffling, 
snorting  pig  asking  for  more  room  ;  the  buffaloes 
grunting  among  themselves  as  they  lurched  out 
across  the  sand-bars,  and  the  deer  telling  pitiful 
stories  of  their  long  foot- sore  wanderings  in  quest 
of  food.  Now  and  again  they  asked  some  ques- 
tion of  the  Eaters  of  Flesh  across  the  river,  but  all 
the  news  was  bad,  and  the  roaring  hot  wind 
of  the  Jungle  came  and  went  between  the  rocks 
and  the  rattling  branches,  and  scattered  twigs 
and  dust  on  the  water. 


HOW    FEAR   CAME  II 

"  The  men-folk,  too,  they  die  beside  their 
plows,"  said  a  young  sambhur.  "  I  passed 
three  between  sunset  and  night.  They  lay  still, 
and  their  bullocks  with  them.  We  also  shall  lie 
still  in  a  little." 

"The  river  has  fallen  since  last  night,"  said 
Baloo.  "  O  Hathi,  hast  thou  ever  seen  the  like 
of  this  drought  ?  " 

"  It  will  pass,  it  will  pass,"  said  Hathi,  squirt- 
ing water  along  his  back  and  sides. 

"We  have  one  here  that  cannot  endure  long," 
said  Baloo ;  and  he  looked  toward  the  boy  he 
loved. 

"  I  ? "  said  Mowgli  indignantly,  sitting  up  in 
the  water.  "  I  have  no  long  fur  to  cover  my 
bones,  but  —  but  if  thy  hide  were  taken  off, 
Baloo  — " 

Hathi  shook  all  over  at  the  idea,  and  Baloo 
said  severely : 

"  Man-cub,  that  is  not  seemly  to  tell  a  Teacher 
of  the  Law.  Never  have  I  been  seen  without 
my  hide." 

"  Nay,  I  meant  no  harm,  Baloo  ;  but  only  that 
thou  art,  as  it  were,  like  the  cocoanut  in  the  husk, 
and  I  am  the  same  cocoanut  all  naked.  Now 
that  brown  husk  of  thine  — "  Mowgli  was  sitting 
cross-legged,  and  explaining  things  with  his  fore- 


12  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

finger  in  his  usual  way,  when  Bagheera  put  out  a 
paddy  paw  and  pulled  him  over  backward  into 
the  water. 

"Worse  and  worse,"  said  the  Black  Panther, 
as  the  boy  rose  spluttering.  "  First,  Baloo  is  to 
be  skinned,  and  now  he  is  a  cocoanut.  Be  careful 
that  he  does  not  do  what  the  ripe  cocoanuts  do." 

"And  what  is  that  ?  "  said  Mowgli,  off  his  guard 
for  the  minute,  though  that  is  one  of  the  oldest 
catches  in  the  Jungle. 

"  Break  thy  head,"  said  Bagheera  quietly,  pull- 
ing him  under  again. 

"It  is  not  good  to  make  a  jest  of  thy  teacher," 
said  the  bear,  when  Mowgli  had  been  ducked 
for  the  third  time. 

"Not  good!  What  would  ye  have?  That 
naked  thing  running  to  and  fro  makes  a  monkey- 
jest  of  those  who  have  once  been  good  hunters, 
and  pulls  the  best  of  us  by  the  whisker  for  sport." 
This  was  Shere  Khan,  the  Lame  Tiger,  limping 
down  to  the  water.  He  waited  a  little  to  enjoy 
the  sensation  he  made  among  the  deer  on  the 
opposite  bank;  then  he  dropped  his  square,  frilled 
head  and  began  to  lap,  growling :  "  The  Jungle 
has  become  a  whelping-ground  for  naked  cubs 
now.     Look  at  me,  Man-cub  !  " 

Mowgli  looked  —  stared,  rather — as  insolently 


HOW   FEAR   CAME  13 

as  he  knew  how,  and  in  a  minute  Shere  Khan 
turned  away  uneasily.  "Man-cub  this,  and  Man- 
cub  that,"  he  rumbled,  going  on  with  his  drink, 
"the  cub  is  neither  man  nor  cub,  or  he  would 
have  been  afraid.  Next  season  I  shall  have  to 
beg  his  leave  for  a  drink.     Aurgh  !  " 

"That  may  come,  too,"  said  Bagheera,  looking 
him  steadily  between  the  eyes.  "  That  may 
come,  too  —  Faugh,  Shere  Khan  !  —  what  new 
shame  hast  thou  brought  here  ? " 

The  Lame  Tiger  had  dipped  his  chin  and  jowl 
in  the  water,  and  dark  oily  streaks  were  floating 
from  it  down-stream. 

"  Man  !  "  said  Shere  Khan  coolly,  "  I  killed  an 
hour  since."  He  went  on  purring  and  growling 
to  himself. 

The  line  of  beasts  shook  and  wavered  to  and 
fro,  and  a  whisper  went  up  that  grew  to  a  cry : 
"  Man  !  Man  !  He  has  killed  Man  !  "  Then  all 
looked  toward  Hathi,  the  wild  elephant,  but  he 
seemed  not  to  hear.  Hathi  never  does  anything 
till  the  time  comes,  and  that  is  one  of  the  reasons 
why  he  lives  so  long. 

"At  such  a  season  as  this  to  kill  Man  !  Was 
no  other  game  afoot  ? "  said  Bagheera  scorn- 
fully, drawing  himself  out  of  the  tainted  water, 
and  shaking  each  paw,  cat-fashion,  as  he  did  so. 


H  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

"  I  killed  for  choice  —  not  for  food."  The  horri- 
fied whisper  began  again,  and  Hathi's  watchful 
little  white  eye  cocked  itself  in  Shere  Khan's 
direction.  "  For  choice,"  Shere  Khan  drawled. 
"  Now  come  I  to  drink  and  make  me  clean  again. 
Is  there  any  to  forbid  ?  " 

Bagheera's  back  began  to  curve  like  a  bamboo 
in  a  high  wind,  but  Hathi  lifted  up  his  trunk  and 
spoke  quietly. 

"  Thy  kill  was  from  choice  ?  "  he  asked ;  and 
when  Hathi  asks  a  question  it  is  best  to  answer. 

"  Even  so.  It  was  my  right  and  my  Night. 
Thou  knowest,  O  Hathi."  Shere  Khan  spoke 
almost  courteously. 

"  Yes,  I  know,"  Hathi  answered  ;  and,  after  a 
little  silence,  "  Hast  thou  drunk  thy  fill  ? " 

"  For  to-night,  yes." 

"  Go,  then.  The  river  is  to  drink,  and  not  to 
defile.  None  but  the  Lame  Tiger  would  so  have 
boasted  of  his  right  at  this  season  when  —  when 
we  suffer  together —  Man  and  Jungle  People 
alike.  Clean  or  unclean,  get  to  thy  lair,  Shere 
Khan !  " 

The  last  words  rang  out  like  silver  trumpets, 
and  Hathi's  three  sons  rolled  forward  half  a  pace, 
though  there  was  no  need.  Shere  Khan  slunk 
away,  not  daring  to  growl,  for  he  knew — what 


HOW   FEAR   CAME  15 

every  one  else  knows — that  when  the  last  comes 
to  the  last,  Hathi  is  the  Master  of  the  Jungle. 

"  What  is  this  right  Shere  Khan  speaks  of?" 
Mowgli  whispered  in  Bagheera's  ear.  "To  kill 
Man  is  always  shameful.  The  Law  says  so.  And 
yet  Hathi  says  —  " 

"Ask  him.  I  do  not  know,  Little  Brother. 
Right  or  no  right,  if  Hathi  had  not  spoken  I 
would  have  taught  that  lame  butcher  his  lesson. 
To  come  to  the  Peace  Rock  fresh  from  a  kill  of 
Man — and  to  boast  of  it — is  a  jackal's  trick. 
Besides,  he  tainted  the  good  water." 

Mowgli  waited  for  a  minute  to  pick  up  his 
courage,  because  no  one  cared  to  address  Hathi 
directly,  and  then  he  cried:  "What  is  Shere 
Khan's  right,  O  Hathi  ?  "  Both  banks  echoed  his 
words,  for  all  the  People  of  the  Jungle  are  in- 
tensely curious,  and  they  had  just  seen  some- 
thing that  none,  except  Baloo,  who  looked  very 
thoughtful,   seemed  to  understand. 

"  It  is  an  old  tale,"  said  Hathi;  "  a  tale  older 
than  the  Jungle.  Keep  silence  along  the  banks, 
and  I  will  tell  that  tale." 

There  was  a  minute  or  two  of  pushing  and 
shouldering  among  the  pigs  and  the  buffalo,  and 
then  the  leaders  of  the  herds  grunted,  one  after 
another,    "We  wait,"  and  Hathi  strode  forward 


16  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

till  he  was  nearly  knee-deep  in  the  pool  by  the 
Peace  Rock.  Lean  and  wrinkled  and  yellow- 
tusked  though  he  was,  he  looked  what  the  Jungle 
knew  him  to  be — their  master. 

"Ye  know,  children,"  he  began,  "that  of  all 
things  ye  most  fear  Man  ";  and  there  was  a  mut- 
ter of  agreement. 

"This  tale  touches  thee,  Little  Brother,"  said 
Bagheera  to  Mowgli. 

"  I  ?  I  am  of  the  Pack  —  a  hunter  of  the  Free 
People,"  Mowgli  answered.  "What  have  I  to  do 
with  Man  ?  " 

"And  ye  do  not  know  why  ye  fear  Man?" 
Hathi  went  on.  "  This  is  the  reason.  In  the 
beginning  of  the  Jungle,  and  none  know  when 
that  was,  we  of  the  Jungle  walked  together,  hav- 
ing no  fear  of  one  another.  In  those  days  there 
was  no  drought,  and  leaves  and  flowers  and  fruit 
grew  on  the  same  tree,  and  we  ate  nothing  at  all 
except  leaves  and  flowers  and  grass  and  fruit  and 
bark." 

"  I  am  glad  I  was  not  born  in  those  days," 
said  Bagheera.  "  Bark  is  only  good  to  sharpen 
claws." 

"  And  the  Lord  of  the  Jungle  was  Tha,  the 
First  of  the  Elephants.  He  drew  the  Jungle  out 
of  deep  waters  with  his  trunk ;    and  where  he 


HOW   FEAR   CAME  17 

made  furrows  in  the  ground  with  his  tusks,  there 
the  rivers  ran  ;  and  where  he  struck  with  his  foot, 
there  rose  ponds  of  good  water ;  and  when  he 
blew  through  his  trunk, —  thus, — the  trees  fell. 
That  was  the  manner  in  which  the  Jungle  was 
made  by  Tha;  and  so  the  tale  was  told  to  me." 

"It  has  not  lost  fat  in  the  telling,"  Bagheera 
whispered,  and  Mowgli  laughed  behind  his  hand. 

"In  those  days  there  was  no  corn  or  melons  or 
pepper  or  sugar-cane,  nor  were  there  any  little 
huts  such  as  ye  have  all  seen ;  and  the  Jungle 
People  knew  nothing  of  Man,  but  lived  in  the 
Jungle  together,  making  one  people.  But  pres- 
ently they  began  to  dispute  over  their  food, 
though  there  was  grazing  enough  for  all.  They 
were  lazy.  Each  wished  to  eat  where  he  lay  down, 
as  sometimes  we  can  do  now  when  the  spring 
rains  are  good.  Tha,  the  First  of  the  Elephants, 
was  busy  making  new  jungles  and  leading  the 
rivers  in  their  beds.  He  could  not  walk  in  all 
places:  therefore  he  made  the  First  of  the 
Tigers  the  master  and  the  judge  of  the  Jungle,  to 
whom  the  Jungle  People  should  bring  their  dis- 
putes. In  those  days  the  First  of  the  Tigers  ate 
fruit  and  grass  with  the  others.  He  was  as  large 
as  I  am,  and  he  was  very  beautiful,  in  color  all  over 
like  the  blossom  of  the  yellow  creeper.    There  was 


18  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

never  stripe  nor  bar  upon  his  hide  in  those  good 
days  when  this  the  Jungle  was  new.  All  the 
Jungle  People  came  before  him  without  fear,  and 
his  word  was  the  Law  of  all  the  Jungle.  We 
were  then,    remember  ye,    one  people. 

"  Yet  upon  a  night  there  was  a  dispute  between 
two  bucks — a  grazing-quarrel  such  as  ye  now 
settle  with  the  horns  and  the  fore  feet — and  it  is 
said  that  as  the  two  spoke  together  before  the 
First  of  the  Tigers  lying  among  the  flowers,  a 
buck  pushed  him  with  his  horns,  and  the  First  of 
the  Tigers  forgot  that  he  was  the  master  and 
judge  of  the  Jungle,  and,  leaping  upon  that  buck, 
broke  his  neck. 

"Till  that  night  never  one  of  us  had  died,  and 
the  First  of  the  Tigers,  seeing  what  he  had  done, 
and  being  made  foolish  by  the  scent  of  the  blood, 
ran  away  into  the  marshes  of  the  North,  and  we 
of  the  Jungle,  left  without  a  judge,  fell  to  fighting 
among  ourselves ;  and  Tha  heard  the  noise  of  it 
and  came  back.  Then  some  of  us  said  this  and 
some  of  us  said  that,  but  he  saw  the  dead  buck 
among  the  flowers,  and  asked  who  had  killed, 
and  we  of  the  Jungle  would  not  tell  because  the 
smell  of  the  blood  made  us  foolish.  We  ran  to 
and  fro  in  circles,  capering  and  crying  out  and 
shaking  our  heads.     Then  Tha  gave  an  order  to 


HOW   FEAR   CAME  19 

the  trees  that  hang  low,  and  to  the  trailing  creep- 
ers of  the  Jungle,  that  they  should  mark  the 
killer  of  the  buck  so  that  he  should  know  him 
again,  and  he  said,  '  Who  will  now  be  master  of 
the  Jungle  People?'  Then  up  leaped  the  Gray 
Ape  who  lives  in  the  branches,  and  said,  '  I  will 
now  be  master  of  the  Jungle.'  At  this  Tha 
laughed,  and  said,  'So  be  it,'  and  went  away 
very  angry. 

"  Children,  ye  know  the  Gray  Ape.  He  was 
then  as  he  is  now.  At  the  first  he  made  a  wise 
face  for  himself,  but  in  a  little  while  he  began  to 
scratch  and  to  leap  up  and  down,  and  when  Tha 
came  back  he  found  the  Gray  Ape  hanging,  head 
down,  from  a  bough,  mocking  those  who  stood 
below ;  and  they  mocked  him  again.  And  so 
there  was  no  Law  in  the  Jungle  —  only  foolish 
talk  and  senseless  words. 

"Then  Tha  called  us  all  together  and  said: 
'  The  first  of  your  masters  has  brought  Death 
into  the  Jungle,  and  the  second  Shame.  Now  it 
is  time  there  was  a  Law,  and  a  Law  that  ye  must 
not  break.  Now  ye  shall  know  Fear,  and  when 
ye  have  found  him  ye  shall  know  that  he  is  your 
master,  and  the  rest  shall  follow.'  Then  we  of 
the  Jungle  said,  'What  is  Fear?'  And  Tha 
said,   '  Seek  till   ye  find.'     So  we  went  up  and 


20  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

down  the  Jungle  seeking  for  Fear,  and  presently 
the  buffaloes — " 

"  Ugh  !  "  said  Mysa,  the  leader  of  the  buffaloes, 
from  their  sand-bank. 

"  Yes,  Mysa,  it  was  the  buffaloes.  They  came 
back  with  the  news  that  in  a  cave  in  the  Jungle 
sat  Fear,  and  that  he  had  no  hair,  and  went  upon 
his  hind  legs.  Then  we  of  the  Jungle  followed 
the  herd  till  we  came  to  that  cave,  and  Fear 
stood  at  the  mouth  of  it,  and  he  was,  as  the  buf- 
faloes had  said,  hairless,  and  he  walked  upon  his 
hinder  legs.  When  he  saw  us  he  cried  out,  and 
his  voice  filled  us  with  the  fear  that  we  have  now 
of  that  voice  when  we  hear  it,  and  we  ran  away, 
tramping  upon  and  tearing  each  other  because  we 
were  afraid.  That  night,  so  it  was  told  to  me,  we 
of  the  Jungle  did  not  lie  down  together  as  used 
to  be  our  custom,  but  each  tribe  drew  off  by 
itself — the  pig  with  the  pig,  the  deer  with  the 
deer;  horn  to  horn,  hoof  to  hoof, — like  keeping  to 
like,  and  so  lay  shaking  in  the  Jungle. 

"  Only  the  First  of  the  Tigers  was  not  with  us, 
for  he  was  still  hidden  in  the  marshes  of  the  North, 
and  when  word  was  brought  to  him  of  the  Thing 
we  had  seen  in  the  cave,  he  said :  '  I  will  go  to 
this  Tiling  and  break  his  neck.'  So  he  ran  all  the 
night  till  he  came  to  the  cave;  but  the  trees  and 


HOW   FEAR   CAME  21 

the  creepers  on  his  path,  remembering  the  order 
that  Tha  had  given,  let  down  their  branches  and 
marked  him  as  he  ran,  drawing  their  fingers 
across  his  back,  his  flank,  his  forehead,  and  his 
jowl.  Wherever  they  touched  him  there  was  a 
mark  and  a  stripe  upon  his  yellow  hide.  And 
those  stripes  do  his  children  zvear  to  this  day ! 
When  he  came  to  the  cave,  Fear,  the  Hairless 
One,  put  out  his  hand  and  called  him  '  The 
Striped  One  that  comes  by  night,'  and  the  First 
of  the  Tigers  was  afraid  of  the  Hairless  One,  and 
ran  back  to  the  swamps  howling." 

Mowgli  chuckled  quietly  here,  his  chin  in  the 
water. 

"  So  loud  did  he  howl  that  Tha  heard  him  and 
said,  '  What  is  the  sorrow  ?  '  And  the  First  of 
the  Tigers,  lifting  up  his  muzzle  to  the  new-made 
sky,  which  is  now  so  old,  said:  'Give  me  back 
my  power,  O  Tha.  I  am  made  ashamed  before 
all  the  Jungle,  and  I  have  run  away  from  a 
Hairless  One,  and  he  has  called  me  a  shameful 
name.'  '  And  why  ? '  said  Tha.  '  Because  I  am 
smeared  with  the  mud  of  the  marshes,'  said  the 
First  of  the  Tigers.  '  Swim,  then,  and  roll  on  the 
wet  grass,  and  if  it  be  mud  it  will  wash  away,' 
said  Tha ;  and  the  First  of  the  Tigers  swam,  and 
rolled  and  rolled  upon  the  grass,  till  the  Jungle  ran 


22  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

round  and  round  before  his  eyes,  but  not  one  little 
bar  upon  all  his  hide  was  changed,  and  Tha,  watch- 
ing him,  laughed.  Then  the  First  of  the  Tigers 
said,  '  What  have  I  done  that  this  comes  to  me  ? ' 
Tha  said,  '  Thou  hast  killed  the  buck,  and  thou 
hast  let  Death  loose  in  the  Jungle,  and  with  Death 
has  come  Fear,  so  that  the  people  of  the  Jungle 
are  afraid  one  of  the  other,  as  thou  art  afraid  of 
the  Hairless  One.'  The  First  of  the  Tigers  said, 
'  They  will  never  fear  me,  for  I  knew  them  since 
the  beginning.'  Tha  said,  '  Go  and  see.'  And 
the  First  of  the  Tigers  ran  to  and  fro,  calling 
aloud  to  the  deer  and  the  pig  and  the  sambhur 
and  the  porcupine  and  all  the  Jungle  Peoples, 
and  they  all  ran  away  from  him  who  had  been 
their  judge,  because  they  were  afraid. 

"Then  the  First  of  the  Timers  came  back,  and 
his  pride  was  broken  in  him,  and,  beating  his  head 
upon  the  ground,  he  tore  up  the  earth  with  all  his 
feet  and  said :  '  Remember  that  I  was  once  the 
Master  of  the  Jungle.  Do  not  forget  me,  O  Tha! 
Let  my  children  remember  that  I  was  once  with- 
out shame  or  fear ! '  And  Tha  said  :  '  This  much 
I  will  do,  because  thou  and  I  together  saw  the 
Jungle  made.  For  one  night  in  each  year  it  shall 
be  as  it  was  before  the  buck  was  killed  —  for  thee 
and  for  thy  children.       In  that  one  night,  if  ye 


HOW   FEAR   CAME  23 

meet  the  Hairless  One — and  his  name  is  Man — 
ye  shall  not  be  afraid  of  him,  but  he  shall  be 
afraid  of  you,  as  though  ye  were  judges  of  the 
Jungle  and  masters  of  all  things.  Show  him 
mercy  in  that  night  of  his  fear,  for  thou  hast 
known  what  Fear  is.' 

"Then  the  First  of  the  Tigers  answered,  'I 
am  content ' ;  but  when  next  he  drank  he  saw  the 
black  stripes  upon  his  flank  and  his  side,  and  he 
remembered  the  name  that  the  Hairless  One  had 
given  him,  and  he  was  angry.  For  a  year  he 
lived  in  the  marshes,  waiting  till  Tha  should  keep 
his  promise.  And  upon  a  night  when  the  Jackal 
of  the  Moon  [the  Evening  Star]  stood  clear  of 
the  Jungle,  he  felt  that  his  Night  was  upon 
him,  and  he  went  to  that  cave  to  meet  the  Hair- 
less One.  Then  it  happened  as  Tha  promised, 
for  the  Hairless  One  fell  down  before  him  and  lay 
along  the  ground,  and  the  First  of  the  Tigers 
struck  him  and  broke  his  back,  for  he  thought 
that  there  was  but  one  such  Thing  in  the 
Jungle,  and  that  he  had  killed  Fear.  Then,  nos- 
ing" above  the  kill,  he  heard  Tha  coming  down 
from  the  woods  of  the  North,  and  presently  the 
voice  of  the  First  of  the  Elephants,  which  is  the 
voice  that  we  hear  now  —  " 

The  thunder  was  rolling  up  and  down  the  dry, 


24  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

scarred  hills,  but  it  brought  no  rain — only  heat- 
lightning  that  flickered  along  the  ridges — and 
Hathi  went  on:  "That  was  the  voice  he  heard, 
and  it  said:  'Is  this  thy  mercy?'  The  First 
of  the  Tigers  licked  his  lips  and  said  :  '  What 
matter  ?  I  have  killed  Fear.'  And  Tha  said : 
'  O  blind  and  foolish  !  Thou  hast  untied  the  feet 
of  Death,  and  he  will  follow  thy  trail  till  thou 
diest.     Thou  hast  taught  Man  to  kill ! ' 

"  The  First  of  the  Tigers,  standing  stiffly  to 
his  kill,  said  :  '  He  is  as  the  buck  was.  There  is 
no  Fear.  Now  I  will  judge  the  Jungle  Peoples 
once  more." 

"  And  Tha  said  :  '  Never  again  shall  the  Jungle 
Peoples  come  to  thee.  They  shall  never  cross  thy 
trail,  nor  sleep  near  thee,  nor  follow  after  thee,  nor 
browse  by  thy  lair.  Only  Fear  shall  follow  thee, 
and  with  a  blow  that  thou  canst  not  see  he  shall 
bid  thee  wait  his  pleasure.  He  shall  make  the 
ground  to  open  under  thy  feet,  and  the  creeper 
to  twist  about  thy  neck,  and  the  tree-trunks  to 
grow  together  about  thee  higfher  than  thou  canst 
leap,  and  at  the  last  he  shall  take  thy  hide  to 
wrap  his  cubs  when  they  are  cold.  Thou  hast 
shown  him  no  mercy,  and  none  will  he  show  thee.' 

"The  First  of  the  Tigers  was  very  bold,  for 
his  Night  was  still  on  him,  and  he  said :   '  The 


HOW   FEAR   CAME  25 

Promise  of  Tha  is  the  Promise  of  Tha.  He  will 
not  take  away  my  Night  ? '  And  Tha  said  :  '  The 
one  Night  is  thine,  as  I  have  said,  but  there  is  a 
price  to  pay.  Thou  hast  taught  Man  to  kill,  and 
he  is  no  slow  learner.' 

"The  First  of  the  Tigers  said:  'He  is  here 
under  my  foot,  and  his  back  is  broken.  Let  the 
Jungle  know  I  have  killed  Fear.' 

"Then  Tha  laughed,  and  said:  'Thou  hast 
killed  one  of  many,  but  thou  thyself  shalt  tell  the 
Jungle — for  thy  Night  is  ended.' 

"  So  the  day  came  ;  and  from  the  mouth  of  the 
cave  went  out  another  Hairless  One,  and  he  saw 
the  kill  in  the  path,  and  the  First  of  the  Tigers 
above  it,  and  he  took  a  pointed  stick — " 

"  They  throw  a  thing  that  cuts  now,"  said  Ikki, 
rustling  down  the  bank ;  for  Ikki  was  considered 
uncommonly  good  eating  by  the  Gonds  —  they 
called  him  Ho-Igoo  —  and  he  knew  something  of 
the  wicked  little  Gondee  axe  that  whirls  across  a 
clearing  like  a  dragon-fly. 

"  It  was  a  pointed  stick,  such  as  they  put  in 
the  foot  of  a  pit-trap,"  said  Hathi,  "  and  throwing 
it,  he  struck  the  First  of  the  Tigers  deep  in  the 
flank.  Thus  it  happened  as  Tha  said,  for  the 
First  of  the  Tigers  ran  howling  up  and  down  the 
Jungle  till  he  tore  out  the  stick,  and  all  the  Jungle 


26  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

knew  that  the  Hairless  One  could  strike  from  far 
off,  and  they  feared  more  than  before.  So  it  came 
about  that  the  First  of  the  Tigers  taught  the  Hair- 
less One  to  kill — and  ye  know  what  harm  that 
has  since  done  to  all  our  peoples — through  the 
noose,  and  the  pitfall,  and  the  hidden  trap,  and 
the  flying  stick,  and  the  stinging  fly  that  comes 
out  of  white  smoke  [Hathi  meant  the  rifle],  and 
the  Red  Flower  that  drives  us  into  the  open. 
Yet  for  one  night  in  the  year  the  Hairless  One 
fears  the  Tiger,  as  Tha  promised,  and  never  has 
the  Tiger  given  him  cause  to  be  less  afraid. 
Where  he  finds  him,  there  he  kills  him,  remem- 
bering how  the  First  of  the  Timers  was  made 
ashamed.  For  the  rest,  Fear  walks  up  and  down 
the  Jungle  by  day  and  by  night." 

"A hi/  Aoo/"  said  the  deer,  thinking  of  what 
it  all  meant  to  them.  » 

"And  only  when  there  is  one  great  Fear  over 
all,  as  there  is  now,  can  we  of  the  Jungle  lay 
aside  our  little  fears,  and  meet  together  in  one 
place  as  we  do  now." 

"  For  one  night  only  does  Man  fear  the  Tiger  ?" 
said  Mowgli. 

"  For  one  night  only,"  said  Hathi. 

"But  I  —  but  we  —  but  all  the  Jungle  knows 
that  Shere  Khan  kills  Man  twice  and  thrice  in  a 
moon." 


HOW   FEAR   CAME  27 

"  Even  so.  Then  he  springs  from  behind  and 
turns  his  head  aside  as  he  strikes,  for  he  is  full 
of  fear.  If  Man  looked  at  him  he  would  run.  But 
on  his  one  Night  he  goes  openly  down  to  the  vil- 
lage. He  walks  between  the  houses  and  thrusts 
his  head  into  the  doorway,  and  the  men  fall  on 
their  faces  and  there  he  does  his  kill.  One  kill 
in  that  Night." 

"  Oh  !  "  said  Mowgli  to  himself,  rolling  over  in 
the  water.  "Now  I  see  why  it  was  Shere  Khan 
bade  me  look  at  him  !  He  got  no  good  of  it, 
for  he  could  not  hold  his  eyes  steady,  and  — 
and  I  certainly  did  not  fall  down  at  his  feet. 
But  then  I  am  not  a  man,  being  of  the  Free 
People." 

"  Umm ! "  said  Bagheera  deep  in  his  furry 
throat.      "Does  the  Tiger  know  his  Night?" 

"  Never  till  the  Jackal  of  the  Moon  stands  clear 
of  the  evening  mist.  Sometimes  it  falls  in  the 
dry  summer  and  sometimes  in  the  wet  rains  — 
this  one  Night  of  the  Tiger.  But  for  the  First  of 
the  Tigers,  this  would  never  have  been,  nor  would 
any  of  us  have  known  fear." 

The  deer  grunted  sorrowfully,  and  Bagheera's 
lips  curled  in  a  wicked  smile.  "  Do  men  know 
this  —  tale  ?  "  said  he. 

"  None  know  it  except  the  tigers,  and  we,  the 


28  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

elephants  —  the  children  of  Tha.  Now  ye  by  the 
pools  have  heard  it,  and  I  have  spoken." 

Hathi  dipped  his  trunk  into  the  water  as  a  sign 
that  he  did  not  wish  to  talk. 

"But  —  but  —  but,"  said  Mowgli,  turning  to 
Baloo,  "  why  did  not  the  First  of  the  Tigers  con- 
tinue to  eat  crass  and  leaves  and  trees?  He  did 
but  break  the  buck's  neck.  He  did  not  eat.  What 
led  him  to  the  hot  meat  ?  " 

"  The  trees  and  the  creepers  marked  him,  Lit- 
tle Brother,  and  made  him  the  striped  thing  that 
we  see.  Never  again  would  he  eat  their  fruit ; 
but  from  that  day  he  revenged  himself  upon  the 
deer,  and  the  others,  the  Eaters  of  Grass,"  said 
Baloo. 

"Then  thou  knowest  the  tale.  Heh ?  Why 
have  I  never  heard?" 

"  Because  the  Jungle  is  full  of  such  tales.  If  I 
made  a  beginning  there  would  never  be  an  end 
to  them.     Let  go  my  ear,  Little  Brother." 


THE   LAW   OF   THE   JUNGLE 


J  UST  to  give  you  an  idea  of  the  im- 
mense variety  of  the  Jungle  Law,  I 
have  translated  into  verse  (Baloo 
always  recited  them  in  a  sort  of 
sing-song)  a  few  of  the  laws  that 
apply  to  the  wolves.  There  are,  of 
course,  hundreds  and  hundreds 
more,  but  these  will  do  for  speci- 
mens of  the  simpler  rulings. 


Now  this  is  the  Law  of  the  Jungle — as  old  and  as  true 
as  the  sky  ; 

And  the  Wolf  that  shall  keep  it  may  prosper,  but  the 
Wolf  that  shall  break  it  must  die. 

As  the  creeper  that  girdles  the  tree-trunk  the  Law  run- 
neth forzvard  and  back  — 

For  the  strength  of  the  Pack  is  the  Wolf,  and  the  strength 

of  the  Wolf  is  the  Pack. 

29 


30  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

Wash  daily  from  nose-tip  to  tail-tip ;   drink  deeply,  but 

never  too  deep ; 
And  remember  the  night  is  for  hunting,  and  forget  not 

the  day  is  for  sleep. 

The  Jackal  may  follow  the  Tiger,  but,  Cub,  when  thy 

whiskers  are  grown, 
Remember  the  Wolf  is  a  hunter — go  forth  and  get  food 

of  thine  own. 

Keep  peace  with  the  Lords  of  the  Jungle  —  the  Tiger, 

the  Panther,  the  Bear; 
And  trouble  not  Hathi  the  Silent,  and  mock  not  the 

Boar  in  his  lair. 

When  Pack  meets  with  Pack  in  the  Jungle,  and  neither 

will  go  from  the  trail, 
Lie  down  till  the  leaders  have  spoken  —  it  may  be  fair 

words  shall  prevail. 

When  ye  fight  with  a  Wolf  of  the  Pack,  ye  must  fight 

him  alone  and  afar, 
Lest  others  take  part  in  the  quarrel,  and  the  Pack  be 

diminished  by  war. 

The  Lair  of  the  Wolf  is  his  refuge,  and  where  he  has 

made  him  his  home, 
Not  even   the   Head   Wolf  may   enter,    not  even    the 

Council  may  come. 

The  Lair  of  the  Wolf  is  his  refuge,  but  where  he  has 
digged  it  too  plain, 


THE   LAW   OF   THE   JUNGLE  31 

The  Council  shall  send  him  a  message,  and  so  he  shall 
change  it  again. 

If  ye  kill  before  midnight,  be  silent,  and  wake  not  the 

woods  with  your  bay, 
Lest   ye   frighten   the   deer  from    the   crops,  and   the 

brothers  go  empty  away. 

Ye  may  kill  for  yourselves,  and  your  mates,  and  your 

cubs  as  they  need,  and  ye  can  ; 
But  kill  not  for  pleasure  of  killing,  and  seven  times  never 

kill  Man. 

If  ye  plunder  his  Kill  from  a  weaker,  devour  not  all  in 

thy  pride  ; 
Pack-Right  is  the  right  of  the  meanest;  so  leave  him 

the  head  and  the  hide. 

The  Kill  of  the  Pack  is  the  meat  of  the  Pack.     Ye  must 

eat  where  it  lies  ; 
And  no  one  may  carry  away  of  that  meat  to  his  lair,  or 

he  dies. 

The  Kill  of  the  Wolf  is  the  meat  of  the  Wolf.     He  may 

do  what  he  will, 
But,  till  he  has  given  permission,  the  Pack  may  not  eat 

of  that  Kill. 

Cub-Right  is  the  right  of  the  Yearling.     From  all  of 

his  Pack  he  may  claim 
Full-gorge  when  the  killer  has  eaten  ;  and  none  may 

refuse  him  the  same. 


32  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

Lair-Right  is  the  right  of  the  Mother.     From  all  of  her 

year  she  may  claim 
One  haunch  of  each  kill  for  her  litter,  and  none  may 

deny  her  the  same. 

Cave-Right  is  the   right   of  the   Father — to   hunt  by 
himself  for  his  own  : 

i. 

He  is  freed  of  all  calls  to  the  Pack  ;  he  is  judged  by  the 
Council  alone. 

Because  of  his  age  and  his  cunning,  because  of  his  gripe 

and  his  paw, 
In  all  that  the  Law  leaveth  open,  the  word  of  the  Head 

Wolf  is  Law. 

Now  these  are  the  Lazvs  of  the  Jungle,  and  many  and 

mighty  are  they  ; 
But  the  head  and  the  hoof  of  the  Law  and  the  haunch 

and  the  hump  is  —  Obey  ! 


THE    MIRACLE    OF    PURUN   BHAGAT 


The  night  we  felt  the  earth  would  move 
We  stole  and  plucked  him  by  the  hand, 

Because  we  loved  him  with  the  love 
That  knows  but  cannot  understand. 

And  when  the  roaring  hillside  broke, 

And  all  our  world  fell  down  in  rain, 
We  saved  him,  we  the  Little  Folk  ; 

But  lo  !  he  does  not  come  again  ! 

Mourn  now,  we  saved  him  for  the  sake 

Of  such  poor  love  as  wild  ones  may. 
Mourn  ye  !  Our  brother  will  not  wake, 

And  his  own  kind  drive  us  away  ! 

Dirge  of  the  Langurs. 


THE    MIRACLE   OF   PURUN    BHAGAT 


HERE  was  once  a  man  in 
India  who  was  Prime  Min- 
ister of  one  of  the  semi-in- 
dependent native  States  in 
the  northwestern  part  of  the 
country.  He  was  a  Brah- 
min, so  high-caste  that  caste 
ceased  to  have  any  particu- 
lar meaning  for  him  ;  and 
his  father  had  been  an  im- 
portant official  in  the  gay-colored  tag-rag  and 
bobtail  of  an  old-fashioned  Hindu  Court.  But 
as  Purun  Dass  grew  up  he  felt  that  the  old  order 
of  things  was  changing,  and  that  if  any  one 
wished  to   get  on  in  the  world  he  must  stand 


36  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE    BOOK 

well  with  the  English,  and  imitate  all  that  the 
English  believed  to  be  good.  At  the  same  time 
a  native  official  must  keep  his  own  master's 
favor.  This  was  a  difficult  game,  but  the  quiet, 
close-mouthed  young  Brahmin,  helped  by  a 
good  English  education  at  a  Bombay  Univer- 
sity", played  it  coolly,  and  rose,  step  by  step,  to 
be  Prime  Minister  of  the  kingdom.  That  is  to 
say,  he  held  more  real  power  than  his  master, 
the  Maharajah. 

When  the  old  king — who  was  suspicious  of 
the  English,  their  railways  and  telegraphs  —  died, 
Purun  Dass  stood  high  with  his  young  successor, 
who  had  been  tutored  by  an  Englishman ;  and 
between  them,  though  he  always  took  care  that 
his  master  should  have  the  credit,  they  established 
schools  for  little  girls,  made  roads,  and  started 
State  dispensaries  and  shows  of  agricultural  im- 
plements, and  published  a  yearly  blue-book  on 
the  "  Moral  and  Material  Progress  of  the  State," 
and  the  Foreign  Office  and  the  Government  of 
India  were  delighted.  Very  few  native  States 
take  up  English  progress  altogether,  for  they 
will  not  believe,  as  Purun  Dass  showed  he  did, 
that  what  was  good  for  the  Englishman  must 
be  twice  as  good  for  j-ne  Asiatic.  The  Prime 
Minister  became  the  honored  friend  of  Viceroys 


THE   MIRACLE   OF  PURUN   BHAGAT  37 

and  Governors,  and  Lieutenant-Governors,  and 
medical  missionaries,  and  common  missionaries, 
and  hard-riding  English  officers  who  came  to 
shoot  in  the  State  preserves,  as  well  as  of  whole 
hosts  of  tourists  who  traveled  up  and  down  India 
in  the  cold  weather,  showing  how  things  ought 
to  be  managed.  In  his  spare  time  he  would  en- 
dow scholarships  for  the  study  of  medicine  and 
manufactures  on  strictly  English  lines,  and  write 
letters  to  the  "  Pioneer,"  the  greatest  Indian  daily 
paper,  explaining  his  master's  aims  and  objects. 

At  last  he  went  to  England  on  a  visit,  and  had 
to  pay  enormous  sums  to  the  priests  when  he 
came  back ;  for  even  so  high-caste  a  Brahmin  as 
Purun  Dass  lost  caste  by  crossing  the  black  sea. 
In  London  he  met  and  talked  with  every  one 
worth  knowing  —  men  whose  names  go  all  over 
the  world  —  and  saw  a  great  deal  more  than  he 
said.  He  was  given  honorary  degrees  by  learned 
universities,  and  he  made  speeches  and  talked  of 
Hindu  social  reform  to  English  ladies  in  evening 
dress,  till  all  London  cried,  "This  is  the  most 
fascinating  man  we  have  ever  met  at  dinner  since 
cloths  were  first  laid." 

When  he  returned  to  India  there  was  a  blaze 
of  glory,  for  the  Viceroy  himself  made  a  special 
visit  to  confer   upon  the   Maharajah   the  Grand 


38  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

Cross  of  the  Star  of  India — all  diamonds  and 
ribbons  and  enamel;  and  at  the  same  ceremony, 
while  the  cannon  boomed,  Purun  Dass  was  made 
a  Knight  Commander  of  the  Order  of  the  Indian 
Empire ;  so  that  his  name  stood  Sir  Purun  Dass, 
K.  C.  I.  E. 

That  evening,  at  dinner  in  the  big  Viceregal 
tent,  he  stood  up  with  the  badge  and  the  collar 
of  the  Order  on  his  breast,  and  replying  to  the 
toast  of  his  master's  health,  made  a  speech  few 
Englishmen  could  have  bettered. 

Next  month,  when  the  city  had  returned  to  its 
sunbaked  quiet,  he  did  a  thing  no  Englishman 
would  have  dreamed  of  doing;  for,  so  far  as  the 
world's  affairs  went,  he  died.  The  jeweled  order 
of  his  knighthood  went  back  to  the  Indian  Gov- 
eminent,  and  a  new  Prime  Minister  was  appointed 
to  the  charge  of  affairs,  and  a  great  game  of  Gen- 
eral Post  began  in  all  the  subordinate  appoint- 
ments. The  priests  knew  what  had  happened 
and  the  people  guessed ;  but  India  is  the  one 
place  in  the  world  where  a  man  can  do  as  he 
pleases  and  nobody  asks  why  ;  and  the  fact  that 
Dewan  Sir  Purun  Dass,  K.  C.  I.  E.,  had  resigned 
position,  palace,  and  power,  and  taken  up  the 
begging-bowl  and  ocher-colored  dress  of  a  Sun- 
nyasi  or  holy  man,  was  considered  nothing  extra- 


THE   MIRACLE   OF   PURUN    BHAGAT  39 

ordinary.  He  had  been,  as  die  Old  Law  recom- 
mends, twenty  years  a  youth,  twenty  years  a 
fighter, —  though  he  had  never  carried  a  weapon 
in  his  life, —  and  twenty  years  head  of  a  house- 
hold. He  had  used  his  wealth  and  his  power  for 
what  he  knew  both  to  be  worth  ;  he  had  taken 
honor  when  it  came  his  way ;  he  had  seen  men 
and  cities  far  and  near,  and  men  and  cities  had 
stood  up  and  honored  him.  Now  he  would  let 
these  things  go,  as  a  man  drops  the  cloak  he  no 
longer  needs. 

Behind  him,  as  he  walked  through  the  city 
gates,  an  antelope  skin  and  brass-handled  crutch 
under  his  arm,  and  a  begging-bowl  of  polished 
brown  coco-de-merm  his  hand,  barefoot,  alone,  with 
eyes  cast  on  the  ground — behind  him  they  were 
firinor  salutes  from  the  bastions  in  honor  of  his 
happy  successor.  Purun  Dass  nodded.  All  that 
life  was  ended;  and  he  bore  it  no  more  ill-will  or 
eood-will  than  a  man  bears  to  a  colorless  dream 
of  the  night.  He  was  a  Sunnyasi  —  a  houseless 
wandering  mendicant,  depending  on  his  neigh- 
bors for  his  daily  bread  ;  and  so  long  as  there  is  a 
morsel  to  divide  in  India  neither  priest  nor  beggar 
starves.  He  had  never  in  his  life  tasted  meat, 
and  very  seldom  eaten  even  fish.  A  five-pound 
note  would  have  covered  his  personal  expenses 


40  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

for  food  through  any  one  of  the  many  years  in 
which  he  had  been  absolute  master  of  millions 
of  money.  Even  when  he  was  being  lionized 
in  London  he  had  held  before  him  his  dream 
of  peace  and  quiet — the  long,  white,  dusty  Indian 
road,  printed  all  over  with  bare  feet,  the  incessant, 
slow-moving  traffic,  and  the  sharp-smelling  wood 
smoke  curling  up  under  the  fig-trees  in  the  twi- 
light, where  the  wayfarers  sit  at  their  evening 
meal. 

When  the  time  came  to  make  that  dream  true 
the  Prime  Minister  took  the  proper  steps,  and  in 
three  days  you  might  more  easily  have  found  a 
bubble  in  the  trough  of  the  long  Atlantic  seas  than 
Purun  Dass  among  the  roving,  gathering,  sepa- 
rating millions  of  India. 

At  night  his  antelope  skin  was  spread  where 
the  darkness  overtook  him  —  sometimes  in  a  Sun- 
nyasi  monastery  by  the  roadside  ;  sometimes  by 
a  mud  pillar  shrine  of  Kala  Pir,  where  the  Jogis, 
who  are  another  misty  division  of  holy  men,  would 
receive  him  as  they  do  those  who  know  what  castes 
and  divisions  are  worth  ;  sometimes  on  the  out- 
skirts of  a  little  Hindu  village,  where  the  children 
would  steal  up  with  the  food  their  parents  had 
prepared  ;  and  sometimes  on  the  pitch  of  the  bare 
grazing-grounds,  where  the  flame  of  his  stick  fire 


THE   MIRACLE   OF    PURUN   BHAGAT  41 

waked  the  drowsy  camels.  It  was  all  one  to  Pu- 
run  Dass  —  or  Purun  Bhagat,  as  he  called  him- 
self now.  Earth,  people,  and  food  were  all  one. 
But  unconsciously  his  feet  drew  him  away  north- 
ward and  eastward ;  from  the  south  to  Rohtak ; 
from  Rohtak  to  Kurnool ;  from  Kurnool  to  ruined 
Samanah,  and  then  up-stream  along  the  dried  bed 
of  the  Gugger  river  that  fills  only  when  the  rain 
falls  in  the  hills,  till  one  day  he  saw  the  far  line 
of  the  great  Himalayas. 

Then  Purun  Bhagat  smiled,  for  he  remem- 
bered that  his  mother  was  of  Rajput  Brahmin  birth, 
from  Kulu  way  —  a  Hill-woman,  always  home- 
sick for  the  snows  —  and  that  the  least  touch  of 
Hill  blood  draws  a  man  at  the  end  back  to  where 
he  belongs. 

"  Yonder,"  said  Purun  Bhagat,  breasting  the 
lower  slopes  of  the  Sewaliks,  where  the  cacti  stand 
up  like  seven-branched  candlesticks — "yonder  I 
shall  sit  down  and  get  knowledge  "  ;  and  the  cool 
wind  of  the  Himalayas  whistled  about  his  ears  as 
he  trod  the  road  that  led  to  Simla. 

The  last  time  he  had  come  that  way  it  had 
been  in  state,  with  a  clattering  cavalry  escort,  to 
visit  the  gentlest  and  most  affable  of  Viceroys ; 
and  the  two  had  talked  for  an  hour  together 
about  mutual  friends  in  London,  and  what  the  In- 


42 


THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 


dian  common  folk 
really  thought  of 
things.  This  time 
Purun  Bhagat  paid 
no  calls,  but  leaned 
on  the  rail  of  the 
Mall,  watching  that 
glorious  view  of  the 
Plains  spread  out 
forty  miles  below,  till 
a  native  Mohamme- 
dan policeman  told 
him  he  was  obstruct- 
ing traffic ;  and  Pu- 
run Bhagat  salaamed 
reverently  to  the  Law, 
because  he  knew  the 
value  of  it,  and  was 
seeking  for  a  Law  of 
his  own.  Then  he 
moved  on,  and  slept 
that  night  in  an  empty 
hut  at  Chota  Simla, 
which  looks  like  the  very  last  end  of  the  earth, 
but  it  was  only  the  beginning  of  his  journey. 

He    followed  the    Himalaya-Thibet   road,  the 
little  ten-foot  track  that   is    blasted  out  of  solid 


THE    MIRACLE   OF   PURUN    BHAGAT  43 

rock,  or  strutted  out  on  timbers  over  gulfs  a 
thousand  feet  deep ;  that  dips  into  warm,  wet, 
shut-in  valleys,  and  climbs  out  across  bare,  grassy 
hill-shoulders  where  the  sun  strikes  like  a  burn- 
ing-glass ;  or  turns  through  dripping,  dark  for- 
ests where  the  tree-ferns  dress  the  trunks  from 
head  to  heel,  and  the  pheasant  calls  to  his  mate. 
And  he  met  Thibetan  herdsmen  with  their  dogs 
and  flocks  of  sheep,  each  sheep  with  a  little  bag 
of  borax  on  his  back,  and  wandering  wood-cut- 
ters, and  cloaked  and  blanketed  Lamas  from 
Thibet,  coming  into  India  on  pilgrimage,  and  en- 
voys of  little  solitary  Hill-states,  posting  furiously 
on  ring-streaked  and  piebald  ponies,  or  the  caval- 
cade of  a  Rajah  paying  a  visit ;  or  else  for  a  long, 
clear  day  he  would  see  nothing  more  than  a  black 
bear  grunting  and  rooting  below  in  the  valley. 
When  he  first  started,  the  roar  of  the  world  he 
had  left  still  rang  in  his  ears,  as  the  roar  of  a 
tunnel  rings  long  after  the  train  has  passed 
through ;  but  when  he  had  put  the  M utteeanee 
Pass  behind  him  that  was  all  done,  and  Purun 
Bhagat  was  alone  with  himself,  walking,  wonder- 
ing, and  thinking,  his  eyes  on  the  ground,  and  his 
thoughts  with  the  clouds. 

One  evening  he  crossed  the  highest  pass  he 
had  met  till  then  —  it  had  been  a  two  days'  climb 


44  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

—  and  came  out  on  a  line  of  snow-peaks  that 
banded  all  the  horizon — mountains  from  fifteen  to 
twenty  thousand  feet  high,  looking  almost  near 
enough  to  hit  with  a  stone,  though  they  were 
fifty  or  sixty  miles  away.  The  pass  was  crowned 
with  dense,  dark  forest  —  deodar,  walnut,  wild 
cherry,  wild  olive,  and  wild  pear,  but  mostly  deo- 
dar, which  is  the  Himalayan  cedar;  and  under 
the  shadow  of  the  deodars  stood  a  deserted  shrine 
to  Kali  —  who  is  Durga,  who  is  Sitala,  who  is 
sometimes  worshiped  against  the  smallpox. 

Purun  Dass  swept  the  stone  floor  clean,  smiled 
at  the  grinning  statue,  made  himself  a  little  mud 
fireplace  at  the  back  of  the  shrine,  spread  his  an- 
telope skin  on  a  bed  of  fresh  pine-needles,  tucked 
his  bairagi  —  his  brass-handled  crutch  —  under 
his  armpit,  and  sat  down  to  rest. 

Immediately  below  him  the  hillside  fell  away, 
clean  and  cleared  for  fifteen  hundred  feet,  where 
a  little  village  of  stone-walled  houses,  with  roofs 
of  beaten  earth,  clung  to  the  steep  tilt.  All  round 
it  the  tiny  terraced  fields  lay  out  like  aprons  of 
patchwork  on  the  knees  of  the  mountain,  and 
cows  no  bigger  than  beetles  grazed  between  the 
smooth  stone  circles  of  the  threshing-floors.  Look- 
ing across  the  valley,  the  eye  was  deceived  by  the 
size  of  things,  and  could  not  at  first  realize  that 


THE   MIRACLE   OF    PURUN   BHAGAT  45 

what  seemed  to  be  low  scrub,  on  the  opposite 
mountain-flank,  was  in  truth  a  forest  of  hundred- 
foot  pines.  Purun  Bhagat  saw  an  eagle  swoop 
across  the  gigantic  hollow,  but  the  great  bird 
dwindled  to  a  dot  ere  it  was  half-way  over.  A 
few  bands  of  scattered  clouds  strung  up  and  down 
the  valley,  catching  on  a  shoulder  of  the  hills,  or 
rising  up  and  dying  out  when  they  were  level  with 
the  head  of  the  pass.  And  "  Here  shall  I  find 
peace,"  said  Purun  Bhagat. 

Now,  a  Hill-man  makes  nothing  of  a  few  hun- 
dred feet  up  or  down,  and  as  soon  as  the  villagers 
saw  the  smoke  in  the  deserted  shrine,  the  village 
priest  climbed  up  the  terraced  hillside  to  welcome 
the  stranger. 

When  he  met  Purun  Bhagat' s  eyes  —  the  eyes 
of  a  man  used  to  control  thousands  —  he  bowed 
to  the  earth,  took  the  begging-bowl  without  a 
word,  and  returned  to  the  village,  saying,  "  We 
have  at  last  a  holy  man.  Never  have  I  seen  such 
a  man.  He  is  of  the  Plains — but  pale-colored 
— a  Brahmin  of  the  Brahmins."  Then  all  the 
housewives  of  the  village  said,  "Think  you  he 
will  stay  with  us  ?  "  and  each  did  her  best  to  cook 
the  most  savory  meal  for  the  Bhagat.  Hill-food 
is  very  simple,  but  with  buckwheat  and  Indian 
corn,  and  rice  and  red  pepper,  and  little  fish  out 


46  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

of  the  stream  in  the  valley,  and  honey  from  the 
flue-like  hives  built  in  the  stone  walls,  and  dried 
apricots,  and  turmeric,  and  wild  ginger,  and  ban- 
nocks of  flour,  a  devout  woman  can  make  good 
things,  and  it  was  a  full  bowl  that  the  priest  car- 
ried to  the  Bhagat.  Was  he  going  to  stay  ? 
asked  the  priest.  Would  he  need  a  chela  —  a 
disciple —  to  beg  for  him  ?  Had  he  a  blanket 
against  the  cold  weather  ?     Was  the  food  eood  ? 

Purun  Bhagat  ate,  and  thanked  the  giver.  It 
was  in  his  mind  to  stay.  That  was  sufficient, 
said  the  priest.  Let  the  begging-bowl  be  placed 
outside  the  shrine,  in  the  hollow  made  by  those 
two  twisted  roots,  and  daily  should  the  Bhagat 
be  fed ;  for  the  village  felt  honored  that  such  a 
man  —  he  looked  timidly  into  the  Bhagat's  face 
—  should  tarry  among  them. 

That  day  saw  the  end  of  Purun  Bhagat's  wan- 
derings. He  had  come  to  the  place  appointed 
for  him — the  silence  and  the  space.  After  this, 
time  stopped,  and  he,  sitting  at  the  mouth  of  the 
shrine,  could  not  tell  whether  he  were  alive  or 
dead ;  a  man  with  control  of  his  limbs,  or  a  part 
of  the  hills,  and  the  clouds,  and  the  shifting  rain 
and  sunlight.  He  would  repeat  a  Name  softly  to 
himself  a  hundred  hundred  times,  till,  at  each  re- 
petition, he  seemed  to  move  more  and  more  out 
of  his  body,  sweeping  up   to  the  doors  of  some 


THE   MIRACLE   OF    PURUN   BHAGAT  47 

tremendous  discovery ;  but,  just  as  the  door  was 
opening,  his  body  would  drag  him  back,  and,  with 
grief,  he  felt  he  was  locked  up  again  in  the  flesh 
and  bones  of  Purun  Bhagat. 

Every  morning  the  filled  begging-bowl  was 
laid  silently  in  the  crutch  of  the  roots  outside  the 
shrine.  Sometimes  the  priest  brought  it ;  some- 
times a  Ladakhi  trader,  lodging  in  the  village, 
and  anxious  to  get  merit,  trudged  up  the  path ; 
but,  more  often,  it  was  the  woman  who  had  cooked 
the  meal  overnight;  and  she  would  murmur, 
hardly  above  her  breath:  "Speak  for  me  before 
the  gods,  Bhagat.  Speak  for  such  a  one,  the 
wife  of  so-and-so ! "  Now  and  then  some  bold 
child  would  be  allowed  the  honor,  and  Purun 
Bhagat  would  hear  him  drop  the  bowl  and  run  as 
fast  as  his  little  legs  could  carry  him,  but  the  Bha- 
gat never  came  down  to  the  village.  It  was  laid 
out  like  a  map  at  his  feet.  He  could  see  the  even- 
ing gatherings,  held  on  the  circle  of  the  threshing- 
floors  because  that  was  the  only  level  ground ; 
could  see  the  wonderful  unnamed  green  of  the 
young  rice,  the  indigo  blues  of  the  Indian  corn, 
the  dock-like  patches  of  buckwheat,  and,  in  its 
season,  the  red  bloom  of  the  amaranth,  whose 
tiny  seeds,  being  neither  grain  nor  pulse,  make  a 
food  that  can  be  lawfully  eaten  by  Hindus  in  time 
of  fasts. 


THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 


When   the  year  turned,   the  roofs  of  the  huts 
were    all    little    squares    of   purest    gold,    for    it 

was  on  the  roofs  that 
they  laid  out  their  cobs 
of  the  corn  to  dry.  Hiv- 
ing and  harvest,  rice- 
sowing  and  husking, 
passed  before  his  eyes, 
all  embroidered  down 
there  on  the  many- 
sided  plots  of  fields,  and 
he  thought  of  them  all, 
and  wondered  what 
they  all  led  to  at  the 
long   last. 

Even     in    populated 

India    a    man    cannot 

a    day    sit    still    before 

things    run 

over     him 

as   though 

he  were  a 

rock ;    and 

in       that 

wilderness 

very    soon 

the       wild 


THE   MIRACLE   OF   PURUN   BHAGAT  49 

things,  who  knew  Kali's  Shrine  well,  came  back 
to  look  at  the  intruder.  The  langurs,  the  big 
gray- whiskered  monkeys  of  the  Himalayas,  were, 
naturally,  the  first,  for  they  are  alive  with  cu- 
riosity ;  and  when  they  had  upset  the  begging- 
bowl,  and  rolled  it  round  the  floor,  and  tried 
their  teeth  on  the  brass-handled  crutch,  and 
made  faces  at  the  antelope  skin,  they  decided 
that  the  human  being  who  sat  so  still  was  harm- 
less. At  evening,  they  would  leap  down  from  the 
pines,  and  beg  with  their  hands  for  things  to  eat, 
and  then  swing  off  in  graceful  curves.  They 
liked  the  warmth  of  the  fire,  too,  and  huddled 
round  it  till  Purun  Bhagat  had  to  push  them 
aside  to  throw  on  more  fuel;  and  in  the  morn- 
ing, as  often  as  not,  he  would  find  a  furry  ape 
sharing  his  blanket.  All  day  long,  one  or  other 
of  the  tribe  would  sit  by  his  side,  staring  out  at 
the  snows,  crooning  and  looking  unspeakably 
wise    and    sorrowful. 

After  the  monkeys  came  the  barasingh,  that 
big  deer  which  is  like  our  red  deer,  but  stronger. 
He  wished  to  rub  off  the  velvet  of  his  horns 
against  the  cold  stones  of  Kali's  statue,  and 
stamped  his  feet  when  he  saw  the  man  at  the 
shrine.  But  Purun  Bhagat  never  moved,  and, 
little  by  little,  the  royal  stag  edged  up  and  nuz- 


50  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

zled  his  shoulder.  Purun  Bhagat  slid  one  cool 
hand  along  the  hot  antlers,  and  the  touch  soothed 
the  fretted  beast,  who  bowed  his  head,  and  Purun 
Bhagat  very  softly  rubbed  and  raveled  off  the 
velvet.  Afterward,  the  barasingh  brought  his 
doe  and  fawn — gentle  things  that  mumbled  on 
the  holy  man's  blanket — or  would  come  alone  at 
night,  his  eyes  green  in  the  fire-flicker,  to  take 
his  share  of  fresh  walnuts.  At  last,  the  musk- 
deer,  the  shyest  and  almost  the  smallest  of  the 
deerlets,  came,  too,  her  big  rabbity  ears  erect ; 
even  brindled,  silent  mushick-nabha  must  needs 
find  out  what  the  light  in  the  shrine  meant,  and 
drop  her  moose-like  nose  into  Purun  Bhagat's 
lap,  coming  and  going  with  the  shadows  of  the 
fire.  Purun  Bhagat  called  them  all  "my  bro- 
thers," and  his  low  call  of  "  Bhai  /  Bhai!  "  would 
draw  them  from  the  forest  at  noon  if  they  were 
within  earshot.  The  Himalayan  black  bear, 
moody  and  suspicious  —  Sona,  who  has  the  V- 
shaped  white  mark  under  his  chin — passed  that 
way  more  than  once  ;  and  since  the  Bhagat  showed 
no  fear,  Sona  showed  no  anger,  but  watched  him, 
and  came  closer,  and  begged  a  share  of  the  ca- 
resses, and  a  dole  of  bread  or  wild  berries.  Often, 
in  the  still  dawns,  when  the  Bhagat  would  climb 
to   the  very    crest  of  the  pass  to  watch  the  red 


THE   MIRACLE   OF    PURUN   BHAGAT  51 

day  walking  along  the  peaks  of  the  snows,  he 
would  find  Sona  shuffling  and  grunting  at  his 
heels,  thrusting  a  curious  fore-paw  under  fallen 
trunks,  and  bringing  it  away  with  a  whoof  of  im- 
patience ;  or  his  early  steps  would  wake  Sona 
where  he  lay  curled  up,  and  the  great  brute,  ris- 
ing erect,  would  think  to  fight,  till  he  heard  the 
Bhagat's  voice  and  knew  his  best  friend. 

Nearly  all  hermits  and  holy  men  who  live  apart 
from  the  big  cities  have  the  reputation  of  being 
able  to  work  miracles  with  the  wild  things,  but 
all  the  miracle  lies  in  keeping  still,  in  never  mak- 
ing a  hasty  movement,  and,  for  a  long  time,  at 
least,  in  never  looking  directly  at  a  visitor.  The 
villagers  saw  the  outline  of  the  barasingh  stalk- 
ing like  a  shadow  through  the  dark  forest  behind 
the  shrine;  saw  the  minaul,  the  Himalayan  phea- 
sant, blazing  in  her  best  colors  before  Kali's  sta- 
tue ;  and  the  langurs  on  their  haunches,  inside, 
playing  with  the  walnut  shells.  Some  of  the  chil- 
dren, too,  had  heard  Sona  singing  to  himself,  bear- 
fashion,  behind  the  fallen  rocks,  and  the  Bhagat's 
reputation  as  miracle-worker  stood  firm. 

Yet  nothing  was  further  from  his  mind  than 
miracles.  He  believed  that  all  things  were  one 
big  Miracle,  and  when  a  man  knows  that  much 
he  knows  something  to  go  upon.      He  knew  for  a 


52  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE    BOOK 

certainty  that  there  was  nothing"  great  and  noth- 
ing little  in  this  world ;  and  day  and  night  he 
strove  to  think  out  his  way  into  the  heart  of 
things,  back  to  the  place  whence  his  soul  had 
come. 

So  thinking,  his  untrimmed  hair  fell  down  about 
his  shoulders,  the  stone  slab  at  the  side  of  the  an- 
telope skin  was  dented  into  a  little  hole  by  the 
foot  of  his  brass-handled  crutch,  and  the  place  be- 
tween the  tree-trunks,  where  the  be^o-incf-bowl 
rested  day  after  day,  sunk  and  wore  into  a  hollow 
almost  as  smooth  as  the  brown  shell  itself;  and 
each  beast  knew  his  exact  place  at  the  fire.  The 
fields  changed  their  colors  with  the  seasons  ;  the 
threshing-floors  filled  and  emptied,  and  filled 
again  and  again ;  and  again  and  again,  when 
winter  came,  the  langurs  frisked  among  the 
branches  feathered  with  light  snow,  till  the  mother- 
monkeys  brought  their  sad-eyed  little  babies  up 
from  the  warmer  valleys  with  the  spring.  There 
were  few  changes  in  the  village.  The  priest  was 
older,  and  many  of  the  little  children  who  used  to 
come  with  the  begging-dish  sent  their  own  chil- 
dren now  ;  and  when  you  asked  of  the  villagers 
how  long  their  holy  man  had  lived  in  Kali's  Shrine 
at  the  head  of  the  pass,  they  answered,  "  Always." 

Then  came  such  summer  rains  as  had  not  been 


THE   MIRACLE   OF   PURUN   BHAGAT  53 

known  in  the  Hills  for  many  seasons.  Through 
three  good  months  the  valley  was  wrapped  in 
cloud  and  soaking  mist — steady,  unrelenting 
downfall,  breaking  off  into  thunder-shower  after 
thunder-shower.  Kali's  Shrine  stood  above  the 
clouds,  for  the  most  part,  and  there  was  a  whole 
month  in  which  the  Bhagat  never  saw  his  village. 
It  was  packed  away  under  a  white  floor  of  cloud 
that  swayed  and  shifted  and  rolled  on  itself  and 
bulged  upward,  but  never  broke  from  its  piers — 
the  streaming  flanks  of  the  valley. 

All  that  time  he  heard  nothing-  but  the  sound 
of  a  million  little  waters,  overhead  from  the 
trees,  and  underfoot  along  the  ground,  soaking 
through  the  pine-needles,  dripping  from  the 
tongues  of  draggled  fern,  and  spouting  in  newly 
torn  muddy  channels  down  the  slopes.  Then  the 
sun  came  out,  and  drew  forth  the  good  incense  of 
the  deodars  and  the  rhododendrons,  and  that  far-off, 
clean  smell  which  the  Hill  people  call  "the  smell 
of  the  snows."  The  hot  sunshine  lasted  for  a  week, 
and  then  the  rains  gathered  together  for  their 
last  downpour,  and  the  water  fell  in  sheets  that 
flayed  off  the  skin  of  the  ground  and  leaped  back 
in  mud.  Purun  Bhagat  heaped  his  fire  high  that 
night,  for  he  was  sure  his  brothers  would  need 
warmth ;  but  never  a  beast  came  to  the  shrine, 


54  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

though  he  called  and  called  till  he  dropped  asleep, 
wondering  what  had  happened  in  the  woods. 

It  was  in  the  black  heart  of  the  night,  the  rain 
drumming  like  a  thousand  drums,  that  he  was 
roused  by  a  plucking  at  his  blanket,  and, 
stretching  out,  felt  the  little  hand  of  a  langur. 
"It  is  better  here  than  in  the  trees,"  he  said 
sleepily,  loosening  a  fold  of  blanket;  "take  it 
and  be  warm."  The  monkey  caught  his  hand 
and  pulled  hard.  "  Is  it  food,  then  ?  "  said  Purun 
Bhagat.  "  Wait  awhile,  and  I  will  prepare  some." 
As  he  kneeled  to  throw  fuel  on  the  fire  the  lan- 
gur ran  to  the  door  of  the  shrine,  crooned,  and 
ran  back  again,  plucking  at  the  man's  knee. 

"  What  is  it  ?  What  is  thy  trouble,  Brother  ?  " 
said  Purun  Bhagat,  for  the  langur s  eyes  were 
full  of  things  that  he  could  not  tell.  "  Unless 
one  of  thy  caste  be  in  a  trap — and  none  set  traps 
here — I  will  not  go  into  that  weather.  Look, 
Brother,  even  the  barasingh  comes  for  shelter  !  " 

The  deer's  antlers  clashed  as  he  strode  into  the 
shrine,  clashed  against  the  grinning  statue  of 
Kali.  He  lowered  them  in  Purun  Bhasfat's  direc- 
tion  and  stamped  uneasily,  hissing  through  his 
half-shut  nostrils. 

"  Hai !  Hai !  Hai !  "  said  the  Bhagat,  snapping 
his  fingers.      "  Is  this  payment  for  a  night's  lodg- 


THE    MIRACLE   OF   PURUN   BHAGAT  55 

ing  ? "  But  the  deer  pushed  him  toward  the 
door,  and  as  he  did  so  Purun  Bhagat  heard  the 
sound  of  something  opening  with  a  sigh,  and  saw 
two  slabs  of  the  floor  draw  away  from  each  other, 
while  the  sticky  earth  below  smacked  its  lips. 

"  Now  I  see,"  said  Purun  Bhagat.  "  No  blame 
to  my  brothers  that  they  did  not  sit  by  the  fire 
to-night.  The  mountain  is  falling.  And  yet- 
why  should  I  go?"  His  eye  fell  on  the  empty 
begging-bowl,  and  his  face  changed.  "  They 
have  given  me  good  food  daily  since — since  I 
came,  and,  if  I  am  not  swift,  to-morrow  there 
will  not  be  one  mouth  in  the  valley.  Indeed,  I 
must  go  and  warn  them  below.  Back  there, 
Brother !     Let  me  get  to  the  fire." 

The  barasingh  backed  unwillingly  as  Purun 
Bhagat  drove  a  pine  torch  deep  into  the  flame, 
twirling  it  till  it  was  well  lit.  "Ah!  ye  came 
to  warn  me,"  he  said,  rising.  "  Better  than  that 
we  shall  do;  better  than  that.  Out,  now,  and  lend 
me  thy  neck,  Brother,  for  I  have  but  two  feet." 

He  clutched  the  bristling  withers  of  the  bara- 
singh with  his  right  hand,  held  the  torch  away  with 
his  left,  and  stepped  out  of  the  shrine  into  the 
desperate  night.  There  was  no  breath  of  wind, 
but  the  rain  nearly  drowned  the  flare  as  the 
great  deer  hurried  down  the  slope,  sliding  on  his 


56  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

haunches.  As  soon  as  they  were  clear  of  the 
forest  more  of  the  Bhagat's  brothers  joined  them. 
He  heard,  though  he  could  not  see,  the  langurs 
pressing  about  him,  and  behind  them  the  uhh  ! 
uhh  !  of  Sona.  The  rain  matted  his  long  white 
hair  into  ropes ;  the  water  splashed  beneath  his 
bare  feet,  and  his  yellow  robe  clung  to  his  frail 
old  body,  but  he  stepped  down  steadily,  leaning 
against  the  barasingh.  He  was  no  longer  a 
holy  man,  but  Sir  Purun  Dass,  K.  C.  I.  E.,  Prime 
Minister  of  no  small  State,  a  man  accustomed  to 
command,  going  out  to  save  life.  Down  the 
steep,  plashy  path  they  poured  all  together,  the 
Bhagat  and  his  brothers,  down  and  down  till 
the  deer's  feet  clicked  and  stumbled  on  the  wall  of 
a  threshing-floor,  and  he  snorted  because  he  smelt 
Man.  Now  they  were  at  the  head  of  the  one 
crooked  village  street, and  the  Bhagat  beat  with  his 
crutch  on  the  barred  windows  of  the  blacksmith's 
house  as  his  torch  blazed  up  in  the  shelter  of  the 
eaves.  "Up  and  out !"  cried  Purun  Bhagat;  and  he 
did  not  know  his  own  voice,  for  it  was  years  since 
he  had  spoken  aloud  to  a  man.  "The  hill  falls! 
The  hill  is  falling!  Up  and  out,  oh,  you  within  !" 
"  It  is  our  Bhagat,"  said  the  blacksmith's  wife. 
"  He  stands  among  his  beasts.  Gather  the  little 
ones  and  give  the  call." 


THE   MIRACLE   OF   PURUN    BHAGAT  57 

It  ran  from  house  to  house,  while  the  beasts, 
cramped  in  the  narrow  way,  surged  and  huddled 
round  the  Bhagat,  and  Sona  puffed  impatiently. 

The  people  hurried  into  the  street — they  were 
no  more  than  seventy  souls  all  told — and  in  the 
glare  of  the  torches  they  saw  their  Bhagat  hold- 
ing back  the  terrified  barasingh,  while  the  mon- 
keys plucked  piteously  at  his  skirts,  and  Sona  sat 
on  his  haunches  and  roared. 

"  Across  the  valley  and  up  the  next  hill ! " 
shouted  Purun  Bhagat.  "  Leave  none  behind  ! 
We  follow !  " 

Then  the  people  ran  as  only  Hill  folk  can  run, 
for  they  knew  that  in  a  landslip  you  must  climb 
for  the  highest  ground  across  the  valley.  They 
fled,  splashing  through  the  little  river  at  the  bot- 
tom, and  panted  up  the  terraced  fields  on  the  far 
side,  while  the  Bhagat  and  his  brethren  followed. 
Up  and  up  the  opposite  mountain  they  climbed, 
calling  to  each  other  by  name  —  the  roll-call  of 
the  village — and  at  their  heels  toiled  the  big 
barasingh,  weighted  by  the  failing  strength  of 
Purun  Bhagat.  At  last  the  deer  stopped  in  the 
shadow  of  a  deep  pine-wood,  five  hundred  feet  up 
the  hillside.  His  instinct,  that  had  warned  him 
of  the  coming  slide,  told  him  he  would  be  safe 
here. 


58  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

Purun  Bhagat  dropped  fainting-  by  his  side,  for 
the  chill  of  the  rain  and  that  fierce  climb  were  kill- 
ing him ;  but  first  he  called  to  the  scattered 
torches  ahead,  "  Stay  and  count  your  numbers  "  ; 
then,  whispering  to  the  deer  as  he  saw  the  lights 
gather  in  a  cluster:  "Stay  with  me,  Brother. 
Stay — till — I  —  go!" 

There  was  a  sigh  in  the  air  that  grew  to  a 
mutter,  and  a  mutter  that  grew  to  a  roar,  and  a 
roar  that  passed  all  sense  of  hearing,  and  the  hill- 
side on  which  the  villagers  stood  was  hit  in  the 
darkness,  and  rocked  to  the  blow.  Then  a  note 
as  steady,  deep,  and  true  as  the  deep  C  of  the 
organ  drowned  everything  for  perhaps  five  min- 
utes, while  the  very  roots  of  the  pines  quivered  to 
it.  It  died  away,  and  the  sound  of  the  rain  falling 
on  miles  of  hard  ground  and  grass  changed  to  the 
muffled  drum  of  water  on  soft  earth.  That  told 
its  own  tale. 

Never  a  villager — not  even  the  priest — was 
bold  enough  to  speak  to  the  Bhagat  who  had 
saved  their  lives.  They  crouched  under  the 
pines  and  waited  till  the  day.  When  it  came 
they  looked  across  the  valley  and  saw  that  what 
had  been  forest,  and  terraced  field,  and  track- 
threaded  grazing-ground  was  one  raw,  red,  fan- 
shaped  smear,  with  a  few  trees  flung  head-down 


THE   MIRACLE   OF   PURUN    BHAGAT  59 

on  the  scarp.  That  red  ran  high  up  the  hill  of 
their  refuge,  damming  back  the  little  river,  which 
had  begun  to  spread  into  a  brick-colored  lake. 
Of  the  village,  of  the  road  to  the  shrine,  of  the 
shrine  itself,  and  the  forest  behind,  there  was  not 
trace.  For  one  mile  in  width  and  two  thousand 
feet  in  sheer  depth  the  mountain-side  had  come 
away  bodily,  planed  clean  from  head  to  heel. 

And  the  villagers,  one  by  one,  crept  through  the 
wood  to  pray  before  their  Bhagat.  They  saw 
the  barasingh  standing  over  him,  who  fled  when 
they  came  near,  and  they  heard  the  la,7ignrs  wail- 
ing in  the  branches,  and  Sona  moaning  up  the 
hill ;  but  their  Bhagat  was  dead,  sitting  cross- 
legged,  his  back  against  a  tree,  his  crutch  under 
his  armpit,  and  his  face  turned  to  the  northeast. 

The  priest  said :  "  Behold  a  miracle  after  a 
miracle,  for  in  this  very  attitude  must  all  Sun- 
nyasis  be  buried !  Therefore  where  he  now  is 
we  will  build  the  temple  to  our  holy  man." 

They  built  the  temple  before  a  year  was  ended 
—  a  little  stone-and-earth  shrine — and  they  called 
the  hill  the  Bhagat's  Hill,  and  they  worship  there 
with  lights  and  flowers  and  offerings  to  this  day. 
But  they  do  not  know  that  the  saint  of  their 
worship  is  the  late  Sir  Purun  Dass,  K.  C.  I.  E., 
D.  C.  L.,  Ph.  D.,  etc.,  once  Prime  Minister  of  the 


6o 


THE   SECOND    JUNGLE   BOOK 


progressive  and  enlightened  State  of  Mohini- 
wala,  and  honorary  or  corresponding  member  of 
more  learned  and  scientific  societies  than  will  ever 
do  any  good  in  this  world  or  the  next. 


A   SONG    OF   KABIR 


H,  light  was  the  world  that  he  weighed 
in  his  hands  ! 
Oh,  heavy  the  tale  of  his  fiefs  and 
his  lands ! 
He  has  gone  from  the  gaddee  and 

put  on  the  shroud, 
And  departed  in  guise  of  bairagi 
avowed ! 

Now  the  white  road  to'  Delhi  is 
mat  for  his  feet, 
The  sal  and  the  kikar  must  guard  him  from  heat ; 
His  home  is  the  camp,  and  the  waste,  and  the  crowd  — 
He  is  seeking  the  Way  as  bairagi  avowed  ! 


He  has  looked  upon  Man,  and  his  eyeballs  are  clear 
(There  was  One ;    there    is  One,  and    but  One,  saith 

Kabir) ; 
The  Red  Mist  of  Doing  has  thinned  to  a  cloud  — 
He  has  taken  the  Path  for  bairagi  avowed  ! 


To  learn  and  discern  of  his  brother  the  clod, 
Of  his  brother  the  brute,  and  his  brother  the  God. 
He  has  gone  from  the  council  and  put  on  the  shroud 
("  Can  ye  hear  ?  "  saith  Kabir),  a  bairagi  avowed  ! 


LETTING   IN   THE   JUNGLE 


Veil  them,  cover  them,  wall  them  round  — 

Blossom,  and  creeper,  and  weed  — 
Let  us  forget  the  sight  and  the  sound, 

The  smell  and  the  touch  of  the  breed  ! 

Fat  black  ash  by  the  altar-stone, 

Here  is  the  white-foot  rain, 
And  the  does  bring  forth  in  the  fields  unsown, 

And  none  shall  affright  them  again  ; 
And  the  blind  walls  crumble,  unknown,  o'erthrown, 

And  none  shall  inhabit  again  ! 


LETTING   IN   THE   JUNGLE 


OU  will  remember,  if  you 
have  read  the  tales  in  the 
first  Jungle  Book,  that,  after 
Mowgli  had  pinned  Shere 
Khan's  hide  to  the  Coun- 
cil Rock,  he  told  as  many 
as  were  left  of  the  Seeonee 
Pack  that  henceforward  he 
would  hunt  in  the  Jungle 
alone ;  and  the  four  children  of  Mother  and 
Father  Wolf  said  that  they  would  hunt  with 
him.  But  it  is  not  easy  to  change  one's  life  all  in 
a  minute  —  particularly  in  the  Jungle.  The  first 
thing  Mowgli  did,  when  the  disorderly  Pack  had 
slunk  off,  was  to  go  to  the  home-cave,  and  sleep 

65 


66  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

for  a  day  and  a  night.  Then  he  told  Mother 
Wolf  and  Father  Wolf  as  much  as  they  could  un- 
derstand of  his  adventures  among  men  ;  and  when 
he  made  the  morning  sun  flicker  up  and  down  the 
blade  of  his  skinning-knife, — the  same  he  had 
skinned  Shere  Khan  with,  —  they  said  he  had 
learned  something.  Then  Akela  and  Gray  Bro- 
ther had  to  explain  their  share  of  the  great  buf- 
falo-drive in  the  ravine,  and  Baloo  toiled  up  the 
hill  to  hear  all  about  it,  and  Bagheera  scratched 
himself  all  over  with  pure  delight  at  the  way  in 
which  Mowgli  had  managed  his  war. 

It  was  long  after  sunrise,  but  no  one  dreamed 
of  going  to  sleep,  and  from  time  to  time,  during 
the  talk,  Mother  Wolf  would  throw  up  her  head, 
and  sniff  a  deep  snuff  of  satisfaction  as  the  wind 
brought  her  the  smell  of  the  tiger-skin  on  the 
Council  Rock. 

"  But  for  Akela  and  Gray  Brother  here,"  Mow- 
gli said,  at  the  end,  "  I  could  have  done  nothing. 
Oh,  mother,  mother !  if  thou  hadst  seen  the  black 
herd-bulls  pour  down  the  ravine,  or  hurry  through 
the  gates  when  the  Man-Pack  flung  stones  at 
me ! 

"  I  am  glad  I  did  not  see  that  last,"  said  Mo- 
ther Wolf,  stiffly.  "  It  is  not  my  custom  to  suffer 
my  cubs  to  be  driven  to  and  fro  like  jackals.     / 


LETTING    IN   THE   JUNGLE  67 

would  have  taken  a  price  from  the  Man- Pack; 
but  I  would  have  spared  the  woman  who  gave 
thee  the  milk.  Yes,  I  would  have  spared  her 
alone." 

"Peace,  peace,  Raksha ! "  said  Father  Wolf, 
lazily.  "Our  Frog  has  come  back  again — so 
wise  that  his  own  father  must  lick  his  feet ;  and 
what  is  a  cut,  more  or  less,  on  the  head  ?  Leave 
Men  alone."  Baloo  and  Bagheera  both  echoed: 
"  Leave  Men  alone." 

Mowgli,  his  head  on  Mother  Wolf's  side,  smiled 
contentedly,  and  said  that,  for  his  own  part,  he 
never  wished  to  see,  or  hear,  or  smell  Man  again. 

"But  what,"  said  Akela,  cocking  one  ear — "  but 
what  if  men  do  not  leave  thee  alone,  Little  Bro- 
ther?" 

"Webey^W,"  said  Gray  Brother,  looking  round 
at  the  company,  and  snapping  his  jaws  on  the 
last  word. 

"We  also  might  attend  to  that  hunting,"  said 
Bagheera,  with  a  little  switch-switch  of  his  tail, 
looking  at  Baloo.  "  But  why  think  of  men  now, 
Akela?" 

"  For  this  reason,"  the  Lone  Wolf  answered: 
"when  that  yellow  thief's  hide  was  hung  up  on 
the  rock,  I  went  back  along  our  trail  to  the  vil- 
lage, stepping  in  my  tracks,  turning  aside,   and 


68  THE   SECOND    JUNGLE   BOOK 

lying  down,  to  make  a  mixed  trail  in  case  one 
should  follow  us.  But  when  I  had  fouled  the  trail 
so  that  I  myself  hardly  knew  it  again,  Mang,  the 
Bat,  came  hawking  between  the  trees,  and  hung 
up  above  me.  Said  Mang,  '  The  village  of  the 
Man- Pack,  where  they  cast  out  the  Man-cub, 
hums  like  a  hornet's  nest.' " 

"  It  was  a  big  stone  that  I  threw,"  chuckled 
Mowgli,  who  had  often  amused  himself  by  throw- 
ing ripe  paw-paws  into  a  hornet's  nest,  and  racing 
off  to  the  nearest  pool  before  the  hornets  caught 
him. 

"  I  asked  of  Mang  what  he  had  seen.  He  said 
the  Red  Flower  blossomed  at  the  gate  of  the  vil- 
lage, and  men  sat  about  it  carrying  guns.  Now 
/know,  for  I  have  good  cause," — Akela  looked 
down  at  the  old  dry  scars  on  his  flank  and  side, — 
"  that  men  do  not  carry  guns  for  pleasure.  Pres- 
ently, Little  Brother,  a  man  with  a  gun  follows 
our  trail — if,  indeed,  he  be  not  already  on  it." 

"  But  why  should  he  ?  Men  have  cast  me  out. 
What  more  do  they  need  ?  "  said  Mowgli,  angrily. 

"Thou  art  a  man,  Little  Brother,"  Akela  re- 
turned. "  It  is  not  for  us,  the  Free  Hunters,  to 
tell  thee  what  thy  brethren  do,  or  why." 

He  had  just  time  to  snatch  up  his  paw  as  the 
skinning-knife  cut  deep  into  the  ground  below. 


LETTING    IN   THE   JUNGLE  69 

Mowgli  struck  quicker  than  an  average  human 
eye  could  follow,  but  Akela  was  a  wolf;  and  even 
a  dog,  who  is  very  far  removed  from  the  wild 
wolf,  his  ancestor,  can  be  waked  out  of  deep  sleep 
by  a  cart-wheel  touching  his  flank,  and  can  spring 
away  unharmed  before  that  wheel  comes  on. 

"  Another  time,"  Mowgli  said  quietly,  return- 
ing the  knife  to  its  sheath,  "  speak  of  the  Man- 
Pack  and  of  Mowgli  in  two  breaths —  not  one." 

"  Phff!  That  is  a  sharp  tooth,"  said  Akela, 
snuffing  at  the  blade's  cut  in  the  earth,  "  but  liv- 
ing with  the  Man- Pack  has  spoiled  thine  eye,  Little 
Brother.  I  could  have  killed  a  buck  while  thou 
wast  striking." 

Bagheera  sprang  to  his  feet,  thrust  up  his  head 
as  far  as  he  could,  sniffed,  and  stiffened  through 
every  curve  in  his  body.  Gray  Brother  followed 
his  example  quickly,  keeping  a  little  to  his  left  to 
get  the  wind  that  was  blowing  from  the  right, 
while  Akela  bounded  fifty  yards  up  wind,  and, 
half  crouchino-,  stiffened  too.  Mowgli  looked  on 
enviously.  He  could  smell  things  as  very  few 
human  beings  could,  but  he  had  never  reached 
the  hair-trigger-like  sensitiveness  of  a  Jungle 
nose ;  and  his  three  months  in  the  smoky  village 
had  set  him  back  sadly.  However,  he  dampened 
his  finger,  rubbed  it  on  his  nose,  and  stood  erect 


70  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

to  catch  the  upper  scent,  which,  though  it  is  the 
faintest,  is  the  truest. 

"  Man  !  "  Akela  growled,  dropping  on  his 
haunches. 

"  Buldeo  !  "  said  Mowgli,  sitting  down.  "  He 
follows  our  trail,  and  yonder  is  the  sunlight  on  his 
gun.     Look !  " 

It  was  no  more  than  a  splash  of  sunlight,  for  a 
fraction  of  a  second,  on  the  brass  clamps  of  the 
old  Tower  musket,  but  nothing  in  the  Jungle 
winks  with  just  that  flash,  except  when  the  clouds 
race  over  the  sky.  Then  a  piece  of  mica,  or  a 
little  pool,  or  even  a  highly  polished  leaf  will  flash 
like  a  heliograph.  But  that  day  was  cloudless 
and  still. 

"  I  knew  men  would  follow,"  said  Akela,  trium- 
phantly.   "  Not  for  nothing  have  I  led  the  Pack." 

The  four  cubs  said  nothing,  but  ran  down  hill 
on  their  bellies,  melting  into  the  thorn  and  under- 
brush as  a  mole  melts  into  a  lawn. 

"Where  go  ye,  and  without  word?"  Mowgli 
called. 

"  H'sh  !  We  roll  his  skull  here  before  mid- 
day !  "  Gray  Brother  answered. 

"Back!  Back  and  wait!  Man  does  not  eat 
Man  !  "  Mowgli  shrieked. 

"Who  was  a  wolf  but  now  ?     Who  drove  the 


LETTING   IN   THE  JUNGLE  71 

knife  at  me  for  thinking  he  might  be  Man  ? " 
said  Akela,  as  the  four  wolves  turned  back  sul- 
lenly and  dropped  to  heel. 

"  Am  I  to  o-ive  a  reason  for  all  I  choose  to  do  ?" 
said  Mowgli,  furiously. 

"That  is  Man!  There  speaks  Man!"  Ba- 
gheera  muttered  under  his  whiskers.  "  Even  so 
did  men  talk  round  the  King's  cages  at  Oodey- 
pore.  We  of  the  Jungle  know  that  Man  is  wisest 
of  all.  If  we  trusted  our  ears  we  should  know 
that  of  all  things  he  is  most  foolish."  Raising 
his  voice,  he  added,  "  The  Man-cub  is  right  in 
this.  Men  hunt  in  packs.  To  kill  one,  unless 
we  know  what  the  others  will  do,  is  bad  hunt- 
ing. Come,  let  us  see  what  this  Man  means 
toward  us." 

"  We  will  not  come,"  Gray  Brother  growled. 
"  Hunt  alone,  Little  Brother.  We  know  our  own 
minds.  That  skull  would  have  been  ready  to 
bring  by  now." 

Mowgli  had  been  looking  from  one  to  the  other 
of  his  friends,  his  chest  heaving  and  his  eyes  full 
of  tears.  He  strode  forward  to  the  wolves,  and, 
dropping  on  one  knee,  said  :  "  Do  I  not  know  my 
mind  ?     Look  at  me  !  " 

They  looked  uneasily,  and  when  their  eyes 
wandered,  he  called  them  back  again  and  again, 


72  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

till  their  hair  stood  up  all  over  their  bodies,  and 
they  trembled  in  every  limb,  while  Mowgli  stared 
and  stared. 

"  Now,"  said  he,  "of  us  five,  which  is  leader?  " 

"Thou  art  leader,  Little  Brother,"  said  Gray 
Brother,  and  he  licked  Mowgli' s  foot. 

"Follow,  then,"  said  Mowgli,  and  the  four  fol- 
lowed at  his  heels  with  their  tails  between  their 
legs. 

"  This  comes  of  living  with  the  Man-Pack,"  said 
Bagheera,  slipping  down  after  them.  "  There  is 
more  in  the  Jungle  now  than  Jungle  Law,  Baloo." 

The  old  bear  said  nothing,  but  he  thought 
many   things. 

Mowgli  cut  across  noiselessly  through  the  Jun- 
gle, at  right  angles  to  Buldeo's  path,  till,  parting 
the  undergrowth,  he  saw  the  old  man,  his  musket 
on  his  shoulder,  running  up  the  trail  of  overnight 
at  a  dog-trot. 

You  will  remember  that  Mowgli  had  left  the 
village  with  the  heavy  weight  of  Shere  Khan's 
raw  hide  on  his  shoulders,  while  Akela  and  Gray 
Brother  trotted  behind,  so  that  the  triple  trail  was 
very  clearly  marked.  Presently  Buldeo  came  to 
where  Akela,  as  you  know,  had  gone  back  and 
mixed  it  all  up.  Then  he  sat  down,  and  coughed 
and  grunted,  and  made  little  casts  round  and  about 


LETTING   IN   THE   JUNGLE  73 

into  the  Jungle  to  pick  it  up  again,  and  all  the 
time  he  could  have  thrown  a  stone  over  those  who 
were  watching  him.  No  one  can  be  so  silent  as 
a  wolf  when  he  does  not  care  to  be  heard  ;  and 
Mowgli,  though  the  wolves  thought  he  moved 
very  clumsily,  could  come  and  go  like  a  shadow. 
They  ringed  the  old  man  as  a  school  of  porpoises 
ring  a  steamer  at  full  speed,  and  as  they  ringed 
him  they  talked  unconcernedly,  for  their  speech 
began  below  the  lowest  end  of  the  scale  that  un- 
trained human  beings  can  hear.  [The  other  end 
is  bounded  by  the  high  squeak  of  Mang,  the  Bat, 
which  very  many  people  cannot  catch  at  all. 
From  that  note  all  the  bird  and  bat  and  insect 
talk  takes  on.] 

"  This  is  betterthan  any  kill, "said  Gray  Brother, 
as  Buldeo  stooped  and  peered  and  puffed.  "  He 
looks  like  a  lost  pig  in  the  Jungles  by  the  river. 
What  does  he  say  ? "  Buldeo  was  muttering 
savagely. 

Mowgli  translated.  "  He  says  that  packs  of 
wolves  must  have  danced  round  me.  He  says 
that  he  never  saw  such  a  trail  in  his  life.  He 
says  he  is  tired." 

"  He  will  be  rested  before  he  picks  it  up  again," 
said  Bagheera  coolly,  as  he  slipped  round  a  tree- 
trunk,  in  the  game  of  blindman's-buff  that  they 


74  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

were  playing.  "  Now,  what  does  the  lean  thing 
do  ?  " 

"  Eat  or  blow  smoke  out  of  his  mouth.  Men 
always  play  with  their  mouths,"  said  Mowgli ; 
and  the  silent  trailers  saw  the  old  man  fill  and 
light  and  puff  at  a  water-pipe,  and  they  took  good 
note  of  the  smell  of  the  tobacco,  so  as  to  be  sure 
of  Buldeo  in  the  darkest  night,  if  necessary. 

Then  a  little  knot  of  charcoal-burners  came 
down  the  path,  and  naturally  halted  to  speak  to 
Buldeo,  whose  fame  as  a  hunter  reached  for  at 
least  twenty  miles  round.  They  all  sat  down  and 
smoked,  and  Bagheera  and  the  others  came  up  and 
watched  while  Buldeo  began  to  tell  the  story  of 
Mowgli,  the  Devil-child,  from  one  end  to  another, 
with  additions  and  inventions.  How  he  himself  had 
really  killed  Shere  Khan  ;  and  how  Mowgli  had 
turned  himself  into  a  wolf,  and  fought  with  him 
all  the  afternoon,  and  changed  into  a  boy  again 
and  bewitched  Buldeo's  rifle,  so  that  the  bullet 
turned  the  corner,  when  he  pointed  it  at  Mowgli, 
and  killed  one  of  Buldeo's  own  buffaloes ;  and 
how  the  village,  knowing  him  to  be  the  bravest 
hunter  in  Seeonee,  had  sent  him  out  to  kill  this 
Devil-child.  But  meantime  the  village  had  got 
hold  of  Messua  and  her  husband,  who  were  un- 
doubtedly the  father  and  mother  of  this  Devil- 


LETTING    IN   THE   JUNGLE  75 

child,  and  had  barricaded  them  in  their  own  hut, 
and  presently  would  torture  them  to  make  them 
confess  they  were  witch  and  wizard,  and  then  they 
would  be  burned  to  death. 

"When?"  said  the  charcoal-burners,  because 
they  would  very  much  like  to  be  present  at  the 
ceremony. 

Buldeo  said  that  nothing  would  be  done  till  he 
returned,  because  the  village  wished  him  to  kill 
the  Jungle  Boy  first.  After  that  they  would  dis- 
pose of  Messua  and  her  husband,  and  divide  their 
lands  and  buffaloes  among  the  village.  Messua's 
husband  had  some  remarkably  fine  buffaloes,  too. 
It  was  an  excellent  thing  to  destroy  wizards,  Bul- 
deo thought ;  and  people  who  entertained  Wolf- 
children  out  of  the  Jungle  were  clearly  the  worst 
kind  of  witches. 

But,  said  the  charcoal-burners,  what  would  hap- 
pen if  the  English  heard  of  it  ?  The  English,  they 
had  heard,  were  a  perfectly  mad  people,  who 
would  not  let  honest  farmers  kill  witches  in  peace. 

Why,  said  Buldeo,  the  head-man  of  the  village 
would  report  that  Messua  and  her  husband  had 
died  of  snake-bite.  That  was  all  arranged,  and 
the  only  thing  now  was  to  kill  the  Wolf-child. 
They  did  not  happen  to  have  seen  anything  of 
such  a  creature? 


76  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

The  charcoal-burners  looked  round  cautiously, 
and  thanked  their  stars  they  had  not ;  but  they 
had  no  doubt  that  so  brave  a  man  as  Buldeo 
would  find  him  if  any  one  could.  The  sun  was 
getting  rather  low,  and  they  had  an  idea  that  they 
would  push  on  to  Buldeo's  village  and  see  that 
wicked  witch.  Buldeo  said  that,  though  it  was 
his  duty  to  kill  the  Devil-child,  he  could  not  think 
of  letting  a  party  of  unarmed  men  go  through  the 
Jungle,  which  might  produce  the  Wolf-demon  at 
any  minute,  without  his  escort.  He,  therefore, 
would  accompany  them,  and  if  the  sorcerer's  child 
appeared  —  well,  he  would  show  them  how  the 
best  hunter  in  Seeonee  dealt  with  such  things. 
The  Brahmin,  he  said,  had  given  him  a  charm 
against  the  creature  that  made  everything  per- 
fectly safe. 

"  What  says  he  ?  What  says  he  ?  What  says 
he  ? "  the  wolves  repeated  every  few  minutes ; 
and  Mowgli  translated  until  he  came  to  the  witch 
part  of  the  story,  which  was  a  little  beyond  him, 
and  then  he  said  that  the  man  and  woman  who 
had  been  so  kind  to  him  were  trapped. 

"  Does  Man  trap  Man  ?  "  said  Bagheera. 

"  So  he  says.  I  cannot  understand  the  talk. 
They  are  all  mad  together.  What  have  Messua 
and  her  man  to  do  with  me  that  they  should  be 


LETTING   IN   THE   JUNGLE  77 

put  in  a  trap ;  and  what  is  all  this  talk  about  the 
Red  Flower?  I  must  look  to  this.  Whatever 
they  would  do  to  Messua  they  will  not  do  till 
Buldeo  returns.  And  so — "  Mowgli  thought 
hard,  with  his  fingers  playing  round  the  haft  of 
the  skinnin£-knife,  while  Buldeo  and  the  char- 
coal-burners  went  off  very  valiantly  in  single 
file. 

"  I  am  going  hot-foot  back  to  the  Man-Pack," 
Mowgli  said  at  last. 

"  And  those  ?  "  said  Gray  Brother,  looking  hun- 
grily after  the  brown  backs  of  the  charcoal- 
burners. 

"  Sing  them  home,"  said  Mowgli  with  a  grin  ; 
"  I  do  not  wish  them  to  be  at  the  village  gates  till 
it  is  dark.      Can  ye  hold  them  ?  " 

Gray  Brother  bared  his  white  teeth  in  contempt. 
"  We  can  head  them  round  and  round  in  circles 
like  tethered  goats  —  if  I  know  Man." 

"  That  I  do  not  need.  Sing  to  them  a  little, 
lest  they  be  lonely  on  the  road,  and,  Gray  Bro- 
ther, the  song  need  not  be  of  the  sweetest.  Go 
with  them,  Bagheera,  and  help  make  that  song. 
When  the  night  is  shut  down,  meet  me  by  the 
village — Gray  Brother  knows  the  place." 

"  It  is  no  light  hunting  to  work  for  a  Man-cub. 
When  shall  I  sleep  ?  "  said  Bagheera,  yawning, 


78  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

though  his  eyes  showed  that  he  was  delighted 
with  the  amusement.  "  Me  to  sing  to  naked 
men  !     But  let  us  try." 

He  lowered  his  head  so  that  the  sound  would 
travel,  and  cried  a  long,  long,  "  Good  hunting" — 
a  midnight  call  in  the  afternoon,  which  was  quite 
awful  enough  to  begin  with.  Mowgli  heard  it 
rumble,  and  rise,  and  fall,  and  die  off  in  a  creepy 
sort  of  whine  behind  him,  and  laughed  to  himself 
as  he  ran  through  the  Jungle.  He  could  see  the 
charcoal-burners  huddled  in  a  knot ;  old  Buldeo's 
gun-barrel  waving,  like  a  banana-leaf,  to  every 
point  of  the  compass  at  once.  Then  Gray  Bro- 
ther gave  the  Ya-la-hi  /  Yalaha !  call  for  the 
buck-driving,  when  the  Pack  drives  the  nilghai, 
the  big  blue  cow,  before  them,  and  it  seemed  to 
come  from  the  very  ends  of  the  earth,  nearer,  and 
nearer,  and  nearer,  till  it  ended  in  a  shriek  snapped 
off  short.  The  other  three  answered,  till  even 
Mowgli  could  have  vowed  that  the  full  Pack  was 
in  full  cry,  and  then  they  all  broke  into  the  mag- 
nificent Morning-song  in  the  Jungle,  with  every 
turn,  and  flourish,  and  grace-note,  that  a  deep- 
mouthed  wolf  of  the  Pack  knows.  This  is  a  rough 
rendering  of  the  song,  but  you  must  imagine  what 
it  sounds  like  when  it  breaks  the  afternoon  hush 
of  the  Jungle  : 


LETTING    IN   THE   JUNGLE  79 

One  moment  past  our  bodies  cast 

No  shadow  on  the  plain  ; 
Now  clear  and  black  they  stride  our  track, 

And  we  run  home  again. 
In  morning  hush,  each  rock  and  bush 

Stands  hard,  and  high,  and  raw  : 
Then  give  the  Call :  "  Good  rest  to  all 

That  keep  the  Jangle  Law  I  " 

Now  horn  and  pelt  our  peoples  melt 

In  covert  to  abide  ; 
Now,  crouched  and  still,  to  cave  and  hill 

Our  Jungle  Barons  glide. 
Now,  stark  and  plain,  Man's  oxen  strain, 

That  draw  the  new-yoked  plow; 
Now,  stripped  and  dread,  the  dawn  is  red 

Above  the  lit  talao. 

Ho  !     Get  to  lair  !    The  sun  's  aflare 

Behind  the  breathing  grass  : 
And  creaking  through  the  young  bamboo 

The  warning  whispers  pass. 
By  day  made  strange,  the  woods  we  range 

With  blinking  eyes  we  scan  ; 
While  down  the  skies  the  wild  duck  cries : 

"  The  Day— the  Day  to  Man!  " 

The  dew  is  dried  that  drenched  our  hide, 

Or  washed  about  our  way  ; 
And  where  we  drank,  the  puddled  bank 

Is  crisping  into  clay. 


So  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

The  traitor  Dark  gives  up  each  mark 
Of  stretched  or  hooded  claw  ; 

Then  hear  the  Call :   "  Good  rest  to  all 
That  keep  the  Mingle  Law  !  " 


But  no  translation  can  give  the  effect  of  it,  or 
the  yelping  scorn  the  Four  threw  into  every  word 
of  it,  as  they  heard  the  trees  crash  when  the  men 
hastily  climbed  up  into  the  branches,  and  Buldeo 
began  repeating  incantations  and  charms.  Then 
they  lay  down  and  slept,  for,  like  all  who  live  by 
their  own  exertions,  they  were  of  a  methodical 
cast  of  mind  ;  and  no  one  can  work  well  without 
sleep. 

Meantime,  Mowgli  was  putting  the  miles  be- 
hind him,  nine  to  the  hour,  swinging  on,  delighted 
to  find  himself  so  fit  after  all  his  cramped  months 
among  men.  The  one  idea  in  his  head  was  to 
get  Messua  and  her  husband  out  of  the  trap, 
whatever  it  was  ;  for  he  had  a  natural  mistrust  of 
traps.  Later  on,  he  promised  himself,  he  would 
pay  his  debts  to  the  village  at  large. 

It  was  at  twilight  when  he  saw  the  well-re- 
membered  grazing-grounds,  and  the  dhak-tree 
where  Gray  Brother  had  waited  for  him  on  the 
morning  that  he  killed  Shere  Khan.  Angry  as 
he  was  at  the  whole  breed  and  community  of  Man, 


LETTING    IN   THE   JUNGLE  81 

something  jumped  up  in  his  throat  and  made  him 
catch  his  breath  when  he  looked  at  the  village 
roofs.  He  noticed  that  every  one  had  come  in 
from  the  fields  unusually  early,  and  that,  instead 
of  getting  to  their  evening  cooking,  they  gathered 
in  a  crowd  under  the  village  tree,  and  chattered, 
and  shouted. 

"  Men  must  always  be  making  traps  for  men, 
or  they  are  not  content,"  said  Mowgli.  "  Last 
night  it  was  Mowgli — but  that  night  seems  many 
Rains  ago.  To-night  it  is  Messua  and  her  man. 
To-morrow,  and  for  very  many  nights  after,  it 
will  be  Mowgli's  turn  again." 

He  crept  along  outside  the  wall  till  he  came  to 
Messua's  hut,  and  looked  through  the  window 
into  the  room.  There  lay  Messua,  gagged,  and 
bound  hand  and  foot,  breathing  hard,  and  groan- 
ing :  her  husband  was  tied  to  the  gaily  painted 
bedstead.  The  door  of  the  hut  that  opened  into 
the  street  was  shut  fast,  and  three  or  four  people 
were  sitting  with  their  backs  to  it. 

Mowgfli  knew  the  manners  and  customs  of  the 
villagers  very  fairly.  He  argued  that  so  long  as 
they  could  eat,  and  talk,  and  smoke,  they  would 
not  do  anything  else ;  but  as  soon  as  they  had 
fed  they  would  begin  to  be  dangerous.  Buldeo 
would  be  coming  in  before  long,  and  if  his  escort 


82  THE   SECOND    JUNGLE   BOOK 

had  done  its  duty,  Buldeo  would  have  a  very 
interesting  tale  to  tell.  So  he  went  in  through 
the  window,  and,  stooping  over  the  man  and  the 
woman,  cut  their  thongs,  pulling  out  the  gags, 
and  looked  round  the  hut  for  some  milk. 

Messua  was  half  wild  with  pain  and  fear  (she 
had  been  beaten  and  stoned  all  the  morning),  and 
Mowgli  put  his  hand  over  her  mouth  just  in  time 
to  stop  a  scream.  Her  husband  was  only  be- 
wildered and  angry,  and  sat  picking  dust  and 
things  out  of  his  torn  beard. 

"I  knew — I  knew  he  would  come,"  Messua 
sobbed  at  last.  "  Now  do  I  know  that  he  is  my 
son  !  "  and  she  hugged  Mowgli  to  her  heart.  Up 
to  that  time  Mowgli  had  been  perfectly  steady, 
but  now  he  began  to  tremble  all  over,  and  that 
surprised  him  immensely. 

"Why  are  these  thongs?  Why  have  they  tied 
thee  ?  "  he  asked,  after  a  pause. 

"To  be  put  to  the  death  for  making  a  son 
of  thee — what  else  ?  "  said  the  man,  sullenly. 
"Look!   I  bleed." 

Messua  said  nothing,  but  it  was  at  her  wounds 
that  Mowgli  looked,  and  they  heard  him  grit  his 
teeth  when  he  saw  the  blood. 

"Whose  work  is  this?"  said  he.  "There  is  a 
price  to  pay." 


LETTING    IN   THE   JUNGLE  83 

"The  work  of  all  the  village.  I  was  too  rich. 
I  had  too  many  cattle.  Therefore  she  and  I  are 
witches,  because  we  gave  thee  shelter." 

"  I  do  not  understand.  Let  Messua  tell  the 
tale." 

"  I  gave  thee  milk,  Nathoo  ;  dost  thou  remem- 
ber? "  Messua  said  timidly.  "  Because  thou  wast 
my  son,  whom  the  tiger  took,  and  because  I 
loved  thee  very  dearly.  They  said  that  I  was  thy 
mother,  the  mother  of  a  devil,  and  therefore 
worthy  of  death." 

"  And  what  is  a  devil  ?  "  said  Mowgdi.  "  Death 
I  have  seen." 

The  man  looked  up  gloomily,  but  Messua 
laughed.  "  See  !  "  she  said  to  her  husband,  "  I 
knew  —  I  said  that  he  was  no  sorcerer.  He  is 
my  son — my  son  !  " 

"  Son  or  sorcerer,  what  good  will  that  do  us  ? " 
the  man  answered.      "We  be  as  dead  already." 

"Yonder  is  the  road  to  the  Jungle" — Mowgli 
pointed  through  the  window.  "  Your  hands  and 
feet  are  free.     Go  now." 

"We  do  not  know  the  Jungle,  my  son,  as  —  as 
thou  knowest,"  Messua  began.  "  I  do  not  think 
that  I  could  walk  far." 

"  And  the  men  and  women  would  be  upon  our 
backs  and  drag  us  here  again,"  said  the  husband. 


84  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

"  H'm  !  "  said  Mowgli,  and  he  tickled  the  palm 
of  his  hand  with  the  tip  of  his  skinning-knife  ;  "  I 
have  no  wish  to  do  harm  to  any  one  of  this  vil- 
lage— yet.  But  I  do  not  think  they  will  stay 
thee.  In  a  little  while  they  will  have  much  else 
to  think  upon.  Ah  !  "  he  lifted  his  head  and  lis- 
tened to  shouting  and  trampling  outside.  "So 
they  have  let  Buldeo  come  home  at  last  ?  " 

"  He  was  sent  out  this  morning  to  kill  thee," 
Messua  cried.      "  Didst  thou  meet  him  ?  " 

"Yes  —  we  —  I  met  him.  He  has  a  tale  to 
tell ;  and  while  he  is  telling  it  there  is  time  to  do 
much.  But  first  I  will  learn  what  they  mean. 
Think  where  ye  would  go,  and  tell  me  when  I 
come  back." 

He  bounded  through  the  window  and  ran 
alone  a^ain  outside  the  wall  of  the  village  till  he 
came  within  ear-shot  of  the  crowd  round  the 
peepul-tree.  Buldeo  was  lying  on  the  ground, 
coughing  and  groaning,  and  every  one  was  ask- 
ing him  questions.  His  hair  had  fallen  about  his 
shoulders  ;  his  hands  and  legs  were  skinned  from 
climbing  up  trees,  and  he  could  hardly  speak, 
but  he  felt  the  importance  of  his  position  keenly. 
From  time  to  time  he  said  something  about  devils 
and  singing  devils,  and  magic  enchantment,  just 
to  give  the  crowd  a  taste  of  what  was  coming. 
Then  he  called  for  water. 


LETTING    IN   THE   JUNGLE  85 

"  Bah  !  "  said  Mowgli.  "  Chatter  —  chatter  ! 
Talk,  talk  !  Men  are  blood-brothers  of  the  Ban- 
dar-log. Now  he  must  wash  his  mouth  with 
water ;  now  he  must  blow  smoke ;  and  when  all 
that  is  done  he  has  still  his  story  to  tell.  They 
are  very  wise  people  —  men.  They  will  leave  no 
one  to  guard  Messua  till  their  ears  are  stuffed 
with  Buldeo's  tales.  And  —  I  grow  as  lazy  as 
they !  " 

He  shook  himself  and  glided  back  to  the  hut. 
Just  as  he  was  at  the  window  he  felt  a  touch  on 
his  foot. 

"  Mother,"  said  he,  for  he  knew  that  tongue 
well,  "  what  dost  thou  here  ?  " 

"  I  heard  my  children  singing  through  the 
woods,  and  I  followed  the  one  I  loved  best.  Lit- 
tle Frog,  I  have  a  desire  to  see  that  woman 
who  gave  thee  milk,"  said  Mother  Wolf,  all  wet 
with  the  dew. 

"  They  have  bound  and  mean  to  kill  her.  I 
have  cut  those  ties,  and  she  goes  with  her  man 
through  the  Jungle." 

"  I  also  will  follow.  I  am  old,  but  not  yet 
toothless."  Mother  Wolf  reared  herself  up  on 
end,  and  looked  through  the  window  into  the 
dark  of  the  hut. 

In  a  minute  she  dropped  noiselessly,  and  all 


86  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

she  said  was:  "I  gave  thee  thy  first  milk;  but 
Bagheera  speaks  truth:  Man  goes  to  Man  at 
the  last." 

"  Maybe,"  said  Mowgli,  with  a  very  unpleas- 
ant look  on  his  face;  "but  to-night  I  am  very 
far  from  that  trail.  Wait  here,  but  do  not  let 
her  see." 

"Thou  wast  never  afraid  of  me,  Little  Frog," 
said  Mother  Wolf,  backing  into  the  high  grass, 
and  blotting  herself  out,  as  she  knew  how. 

"And  now,"  said  Mowgli,  cheerfully,  as  he 
swung  into  the  hut  again,  "  they  are  all  sitting 
round  Buldeo,  who  is  saying  that  which  did  not 
happen.  When  his  talk  is  finished,  they  say 
they  will  assuredly  come  here  with  the  Red  — 
with  fire  and  burn  you  both.      And  then?" 

"  I  have  spoken  to  my  man,"  said  Messua. 
"  Kanhiwara  is  thirty  miles  from  here,  but  at 
Kanhiwara  we  may  find  the  English  — " 

"  And  what  Pack  are  they  ?  "  said  Mowgli. 

"I  do  not  know.  They  be  white,  and  it  is 
said  that  they  govern  all  the  land,  and  do  not  suf- 
fer people  to  burn  or  beat  each  other  without 
witnesses.  If  we  can  get  thither  to-night,  we  live. 
Otherwise  we  die." 

"  Live,  then.  No  man  passes  the  gates  to-night. 
But  what  does  he  do  ?  "     Messua's  husband  was 


LETTING   IN   THE   JUNGLE  87 

on  his  hands  and  knees  digging  up  the  earth  in 
one  corner  of  the  hut. 

"It  is  his  little  money,"  said  Messua.  "We 
can  take  nothing  else." 

"  Ah,  yes.  The  stuff  that  passes  from  hand  to 
hand  and  never  grows  warmer.  Do  they  need  it 
outside  this  place  also  ?  "  said  Mowgli. 

The  man  stared  angrily.  "He  is  a  fool,  and 
no  devil,"  he  muttered.  "With  the  money  I  can 
buy  a  horse.  We  are  too  bruised  to  walk  far, 
and  the  village  will  follow  us  in  an  hour." 

"  I  say  they  will  7iot  follow  till  I  choose  ;  but  the 
horse  is  well  thought  of,  for  Messua  is  tired." 
Her  husband  stood  up  and  knotted  the  last  of  the 
rupees  into  his  waist-cloth.  Mowgli  helped  Mes- 
sua through  the  window,  and  the  cool  night  air 
revived  her,  but  the  Jungle  in  the  starlight  looked 
very  dark  and  terrible. 

"Ye  know  the  trail  to  Kanhiwara?"  Mowgli 
whispered. 

They  nodded. 

"  Good.  Remember,  now,  not  to  be  afraid. 
And  there  is  no  need  to  go  quickly.  Only  — 
only  there  maybe  some  small  singing  in  the  Jun- 
gle behind  you  and  before." 

"  Think  you  we  would  have  risked  a  night  in 
the  Jungle  through  anything  less  than  the  fear  of 


88  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

burning  ?  It  is  better  to  be  killed  by  beasts  than 
by  men,"  said  Messua's  husband;  but  Messua 
looked  at  Mowgli  and  smiled. 

"I  say,"  Mowgli  went  on,  just  as  though  he 
were  Baloo  repeating  an  old  Jungle  Law  for  the 
hundredth  time  to  a  foolish  cub  —  "  I  say  that  not 
a  tooth  in  the  Jungle  is  bared  against  you ;  not  a 
foot  in  the  Jungle  is  lifted  against  you.  Neither 
man  nor  beast  shall  stay  you  till  ye  come  within 
eye-shot  of  Kanhiwara.  There  will  be  a  watch 
about  you."  He  turned  quickly  to  Messua,  say- 
ing, "  He  does  not  believe,  but  thou  wilt  believe  ?  " 

"Ay,  surely,  my  son.  Man,  ghost,  or  wolf  of 
the  Jungle,  I  believe." 

"He  will  be  afraid  when  he  hears  my  people 
singing.  Thou  wilt  know  and  understand.  Go 
now,  and  slowly,  for  there  is  no  need  of  any  haste. 
The  gates  are  shut." 

Messua  flung  herself  sobbing  at  Mowgli's  feet, 
but  he  lifted  her  very  quickly  with  a  shiver.  Then 
she  hung  about  his  neck  and  called  him  every 
name  of  blessing  she  could  think  of,  but  her  hus- 
band looked  enviously  across  his  fields,  and  said : 
"I/we  reach  Kanhiwara,  and  I  get  the  ear  of  the 
English,  I  will  bring  such  a  lawsuit  against  the 
Brahmin  and  old  Buldeo  and  the  others  as  shall 
eat  the  village  to  the  bone.     They  shall  pay  me 


LETTING   IN   THE   JUNGLE  89 

twice  over  for  my  crops  untilled  and  my  buffaloes 
unfed.      I  will  have  a  great  justice." 

Mowgli  laughed.  "  I  do  not  know  what  justice 
is,  but  —  come  next  Rains  and  see  what  is  left." 

They  went  off  toward  the  Jungle,  and  Mother 
Wolf  leaped  from  her  place  of  hiding. 

"  Follow  !  "  said  Mowgli ;  "  and  look  to  it  that 
all  the  Jungle  knows  these  two  are  safe.  Give 
tongue  a  little.      I  would  call  Bagheera." 

The  long,  low  howl  rose  and  fell,  and  Mowgli 
saw  Messua's  husband  flinch  and  turn,  half  minded 
to  run  back  to  the  hut. 

"  Go  on,"  Mowgli  called  cheerfully.  "  I  said 
there  might  be  singing,  The  call  will  follow  up 
to  Kanhiwara.      It  is  Favor  of  the  Jungle." 

Messua  urged  her  husband  forward,  and  the 
darkness  of  the  Jungle  shut  down  on  them  and 
Mother  Wolf  as  Bagheera  rose  up  almost  under 
Mowgli's  feet,  trembling  with  delight  of  the  night 
that  drives  the  Jungle  People  wild. 

"I  am  ashamed  of  thy  brethren,"  he  said,  pur- 
ring. 

"  What  ?  Did  they  not  sing  sweetly  to  Buldeo?" 
said  Mowgli. 

"Too  well !  Too  well !  They  made  even  me 
forget  my  pride,  and,  by  the  Broken  Lock  that 
freed  me,  I  went  singing  through  the  Jungle  as 


90  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

though  I  were  out  wooing  in  the  spring  !  Didst 
thou  not  hear  us  ?  " 

"  I  had  other  game  afoot.  Ask  Buldeo  if  he 
liked  the  song.  But  where  are  the  Four  ?  I  do 
not  wish  one  of  the  Man- Pack  to  leave  the  grates 
to-night." 

"  What  need  of  the  Four,  then?"  said  Bagheera, 
shifting  from  foot  to  foot,  his  eyes  ablaze,  and 
purring  louder  than  ever.  "  I  can  hold  them, 
Little  Brother.  Is  it  killing  at  last?  The  sing- 
ing and  the  sight  of  the  men  climbing  up  the 
trees  have  'made  me  very  ready.  What  is  Man 
that  we  should  care  for  him  —  the  naked  brown 
digger,  the  hairless  and  toothless,  the  eater  of 
earth  ?  I  have  followed  him  all  day  —  at  noon  — 
in  the  white  sunlight.  I  herded  him  as  the 
wolves  herd  buck.  I  am  Bao-heera !  Bao;heera  ! 
Bagheera !  As  I  dance  with  my  shadow,  so 
danced  I  with  those  men.  Look !  "  The  great 
panther  leaped  as  a  kitten  leaps  at  a  dead  leaf 
whirling  overhead,  struck  left  and  right  into  the 
empty  air,  that  sung  under  the  strokes,  landed 
noiselessly,  and  leaped  again  and  again,  while  the 
half  purr,  half  growl  gathered  head  as  steam 
rumbles  in  a  boiler.  "I  am  Bagheera  —  in  the 
Jungle  —  in  the  night,  and  all  my  strength  is  in 
me.    Who  shall  stay  my  stroke  ?    Man-cub,  with 


LETTING    IN   THE   JUNGLE  91 

one  blow  of  my  paw  I  could  beat  thy  head  flat 
as  a  dead  frog  in  the  summer ! " 

"Strike,  then!"  said  Mowgli,  in  the  dialect  of 
the  village,  not  the  talk  of  the  Jungle,  and  the 
human  words  brought  Bagheera  to  a  full  stop, 
flung  back  on  haunches  that  quivered  under  him, 
his  head  just  at  the  level  of  Mowgli's.  Once 
more  Mowgli  stared,  as  he  had  stared  at  the 
rebellious  cubs,  full  into  the  beryl-green  eyes  till 
the  red  glare  behind  their  green  went  out  like 
the  light  of  a  lighthouse  shut  off  twenty  miles 
across  the  sea  ;  till  the  eyes  dropped,  and  the  big 
head  with  them  —  dropped  lower  and  lower,  and 
the  red  rasp  of  a  tongue  grated  on  Mowgli's 
instep. 

"  Brother — Brother — Brother  !  "  the  boy  whis- 
pered, stroking  steadily  and  lightly  from  the 
neck  along  the  heaving  back:  "  Be  still,  be  still ! 
It  is  the  fault  of  the  night,  and  no  fault  of  thine." 

"  It  was  the  smells  of  the  night,"  said  Bagheera 
penitently.  "  This  air  cries  aloud  to  me.  But 
how  dost  thou  know  ?  " 

Of  course  the  air  round  an  Indian  village  is 
full  of  all  kinds  of  smells,  and  to  any  creature 
who  does  nearly  all  his  thinking  through  his 
nose,  smells  are  as  maddening  as  music  and  drugs 
are  to  human  beings.     Mowgli  gentled  the  pan- 


92  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

ther  for  a  few  minutes  longer,  and  he  lay  down 
like  a  cat  before  a  fire,  his  paws  tucked  under  his 
breast,  and  his  eyes  half  shut. 

"  Thou  art  of  the  Jungle  and  not  of  the  Jungle," 
he  said  at  last.  "And  I  am  only  a  black  pan- 
ther.     But  I  love  thee,  Little  Brother." 

"They  are  very  long  at  their  talk  under  the 
tree,"  Mowgli  said,  without  noticing  the  last 
sentence.  "  Buldeo  must  have  told  many  tales. 
They  should  come  soon  to  drag  the  woman  and 
her  man  out  of  the  trap  and  put  them  into  the 
Red  Flower.  They  will  find  that  trap  sprung. 
Ho!  ho!" 

"  Nay,  listen,"  said  Bagheera.  "  The  fever  is 
out  of  my  blood  now.  Let  them  find  me  there ! 
Few  would  leave  their  houses  after  meeting  me. 
It  is  not  the  first  time  I  have  been  in  a  cage  ;  and 
I  do  not  think  they  will  tie  me  with  cords." 

"Be  wise,  then,"  said  Mowgli,  laughing;  for 
he  was  beginning  to  feel  as  reckless  as  the  pan- 
ther, who  had  glided  into  the  hut. 

"Pah!"  Bagheera  grunted.  "This  place  is 
rank  with  Man,  but  here  is  just  such  a  bed  as 
they  gave  me  to  lie  upon  in  the  King's  cages  at 
Oodeypore.  Now  I  lie  down."  Mowgli  heard 
the  strings  of  the  cot  crack  under  the  great  brute's 
weight.     "By  the  Broken  Lock  that  freed  me, 


LETTING   IN   THE  JUNGLE  93 

they  will  think  they  have  caught  big  game ! 
Come  and  sit  beside  me,  Little  Brother ;  we  will 
give  them  '  good  hunting  '  together  !  " 

"  No ;  I  have  another  thought  in  my  stomach. 
The  Man-Pack  shall  not  know  what  share  I  have 
in  the  sport.  Make  thine  own  hunt.  I  do  not 
wish  to  see  them." 

"Be  it  so,"  said  Bagheera.  "Ah,  now  they 
come  ! " 

The  conference  under  the  peepul-tree  had  been 
growing  noisier  and  noisier,  at  the  far  end  of  the 
village.  It  broke  in  wild  yells,  and  a  rush  up  the 
street  of  men  and  women,  waving  clubs  and  bam- 
boos and  sickles  and  knives.  Buldeo  and  the 
Brahmin  were  at  the  head  of  it,  but  the  mob  was 
close  at  their  heels,  and  they  cried,  "  The  witch 
and  the  wizard!  Let  us  see  if  hot  coins  will  make 
them  confess !  Burn  the  hut  over  their  heads  ! 
We  will  teach  them  to  shelter  wolf-devils  !  Nay, 
beat  them  first !  Torches  !  More  torches  !  Bul- 
deo, heat  the  gun-barrels  !  " 

Here  was  some  little  difficulty  with  the  catch  of 
the  door.  It  had  been  very  firmly  fastened,  but 
the  crowd  tore  it  away  bodily,  and  the  light  of  the 
torches  streamed  into  the  room  where,  stretched 
at  full  length  on  the  bed,  his  paws  crossed  and 
lightly  hung  down  over  one  end,  black  as  the  Pit, 


94  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

and  terrible  as  a  demon,  was  Bagheera.  There 
was  one  half-minute  of  desperate  silence,  as  the 
front  ranks  of  the  crowd  clawed  and  tore  their 
way  back  from  the  threshold,  and  in  that  minute 
Bagheera  raised  his  head  and  yawned  —  elabo- 
rately, carefully,  and  ostentatiously  —  as  he  would 
yawn  when  he  wished  to  insult  an  equal.  The 
fringed  lips  drew  back  and  up ;  the  red  tongue 
curled ;  the  lower  jaw  dropped  and  dropped  till 
you  could  see  half-way  down  the  hot  gullet ;  and 
the  gigantic  dog-teeth  stood  clear  to  the  pit  of 
the  gums  till  they  rang  together,  upper  and  un- 
der, with  the  snick  of  steel-faced  wards  shooting 
home  round  the  edges  of  a  safe.  Next  instant 
the  street  was  empty;  Bagheera  had  leaped  back 
through  the  window,  and  stood  at  Mowgli's  side, 
while  a  yelling,  screaming  torrent  scrambled  and 
tumbled  one  over  another  in  their  panic  haste  to 
get  to  their  own  huts. 

"They  will  not  stir  till  day  comes,"  said  Ba- 
gheera quietly.      "  And  now  ?  " 

The  silence  of  the  afternoon  sleep  seemed  to 
have  overtaken  the  village,  but,  as  they  listened, 
they  could  hear  the  sound  of  heavy  grain-boxes 
being-  dragged  over  earthen  floors  and  set  down 
against  doors.  Bagheera  was  quite  right ;  the 
village  would  not  stir  till  daylight.      Mowgli  sat 


LETTING   IN   THE  JUNGLE  95 

still,  and  thought,  and  his  face  grew  darker  and 
darker. 

"  What  have  I  done  ?  "  said  Bagheera,  at  last, 
coming  to  his  feet,  fawning. 

"  Nothing  but  great  good.  Watch  them  now 
till  the  day.  I  sleep."  Mowgli  ran  off  into  the  Jun- 
gle, and  dropped  like  a  dead  man  across  a  rock, 
and  slept  and  slept  the  day  round,  and  the  night 
back  again. 

When  he  waked,  Bagheera  was  at  his  side,  and 
there  was  a  newly-killed  buck  at  his  feet.  Ba- 
gheera watched  curiously  while  Mowgli  went  to 
work  with  his  skinning-knife,  ate  and  drank,  and 
turned  over  with  his  chin  in  his  hands. 

"  The  man  and  the  woman  are  come  safe  within 
eye-shot  of  Kanhiwara,"  Bagheera  said.  "Thy 
lair  mother  sent  the  word  back  by  Chil,  the  Kite. 
They  found  a  horse  before  midnight  of  the  night 
they  were  freed,  and  went  very  quickly.  Is  not 
that  well  ? " 

"  That  is  well,"  said  Mowgli. 

"  And  thy  Man-Pack  in  the  village  did  not  stir 
till  the  sun  was  high  this  morning.  Then  they 
ate  their  food  and  ran  back  quickly  to  their 
houses." 

"  Did  they,  by  chance,  see  thee?  " 

"  It  may  have  been.      I  was  rolling  in  the  dust 


96  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

before  the  gate  at  dawn,  and  I  may  have  made 
also  some  small  song  to  myself.  Now,  Little 
Brother,  there  is  nothing  more  to  do.  Come 
hunting  with  me  and  Baloo.  He  has  new  hives 
that  he  wishes  to  show,  and  we  all  desire  thee 
back  again  as  of  old.  Take  off  that  look  which 
makes  even  me  afraid !  The  man  and  woman 
will  not  be  put  into  the  Red  Flower,  and  all  goes 
well  in  the  Jungle.  Is  it  not  true  ?  Let  us  forget 
the  Man-Pack." 

"They  shall  be  forgotten  in  a  little  while. 
Where  does   Hathi  feed  to-niorht?" 

"  Where  he  chooses.  Who  can  answer  for  the 
Silent  One?  But  why?  What  is  there  Hathi 
can  do  which  we  cannot  ?  " 

"  Bid  him  and  his  three  sons  come  here  to  me." 

"  But,  indeed,  and  truly,  Little  Brother,  it  is 
not  —  it  is  not  seemly  to  say  '  Come,'  and  '  Go,'  to 
Hathi.  Remember,  he  is  the  Master  of  the  Jun- 
gle, and  before  the  Man- Pack  changed  the  look 
on  thy  face,  he  taught  thee  the  Master- words  of 
the  Jungle." 

"That  is  all  one.  I  have  a  Master- word  for 
him  now.  Bid  him  come  to  Mowgli,  the  Frog, 
and  if  he  does  not  hear  at  first,  bid  him  come  be- 
cause of  the  Sack  of  the  Fields  of  Bhurtpore." 

"The  Sack  of  the   Fields  of  Bhurtpore,"  Ba- 


LETTING   IN   THE  JUNGLE  97 

gheera  repeated  two  or  three  times  to  make  sure. 
"  I  go.  Hathi  can  but  be  angry  at  the  worst,  and 
I  would  give  a  moon's  hunting  to  hear  a  Mas- 
ter-word that  compels  the  Silent  One." 

He  went  away,  leaving  Mowgli  stabbing  fu- 
riously with  his  skinning-knife  into  the  earth. 
Mowsfli  had  never  seen  human  blood  in  his  life 
before  till  he  had  seen,  and  —  what  meant  much 
more  to  him  —  smelled  Messua's  blood  on  the 
thongs  that  bound  her.  And  Messua  had  been 
kind  to  him,  and,  so  far  as  he  knew  anything  about 
love,  he  loved  Messua  as  completely  as  he  hated 
the  rest  of  mankind.  But  deeply  as  he  loathed 
them,  their  talk,  their  cruelty,  and  their  cowardice, 
not  for  anything  the  Jungle  had  to  offer  could  he 
bring  himself  to  take  a  human  life,  and  have  that 
terrible  scent  of  blood  back  again  in  his  nostrils. 
His  plan  was  simpler  but  much  more  thorough  ; 
and  he  laughed  to  himself  when  he  thought  that 
it  was  one  of  old  Buldeo's  tales  told  under  the  pee- 
pul-tree  in  the  evening  that  had  put  the  idea  into 
his  head. 

"  It  was  a  Master- word,"  Bagheera  whispered 
in  his  ear.  "  They  were  feeding  by  the  river,  and 
they  obeyed  as  though  they  were  bullocks.  Look, 
where  they  come  now  !  " 

Hathi  and  his  three  sons  had  arrived  in  their 


98  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

usual  way,  without  a  sound.  The  mud  of  the 
river  was  still  fresh  on  their  flanks,  and  Hathi 
was  thoughtfully  chewing  the  green  stem  of  a 
young  plantain-tree  that  he  had  gouged  up  with 
his  tusks.  But  every  line  in  his  vast  body  showed 
to  Bagheera,  who  could  see  things  when  he  came 
across  them,  that  it  was  not  the  Master  of  the 
Jungle  speaking  to  a  Man-cub,  but  one  who  was 
afraid  coming  before  one  who  was  not.  His  three 
sons  rolled  side  by  side,  behind  their  father. 

Mowgli  hardly  lifted  his  head  as  Hathi  gave 
him  "  Good  hunting."  He  kept  him  swinging  and 
rocking,  and  shifting  from  one  foot  to  another,  for 
a  long  time  before  he  spoke,  and  when  he  opened 
his  mouth  it  was  to  Bagheera,  not  to  the  ele- 
phants. 

"  I  will  tell  a  tale  that  was  told  to  me  by  the 
hunter  ye  hunted  to-day,"  said  Mowgli.  "  It 
concerns  an  elephant,  old  and  wise,  who  fell  into 
a  trap,  and  the  sharpened  stake  in  the  pit  scarred 
him  from  a  little  above  his  heel  to  the  crest  of  his 
shoulder,  leaving  a  white  mark."  Mowgli  threw 
out  his  hand,  and  as  Hathi  wheeled  the  moonlight 
showed  a  long  white  scar  on  his  slaty  side,  as 
though  he  had  been  struck  with  a  red-hot  whip. 
"  Men  came  to  take  him  from  the  trap,"  Mowgli 
continued,  "but  he  broke  his  ropes,  for  he  was 


LETTING   IN   THE   JUNGLE  99 

strong,  and  went  away  till  his  wound  was  healed. 
Then  came  he,  angry,  by  night  to  the  fields  of 
those  hunters.  And  I  remember  now  that  he 
had  three  sons.  These  things  happened  many, 
many  Rains  ago,  and  very  far  away  —  among 
the  fields  of  Bhurtpore.  What  came  to  those 
fields  at  the  next  reaping,  Hathi?" 

"They  were  reaped  by  me  and  by  my  three 
sons,"  said  Hathi. 

"  And  to  the  plowing  that  follows  the  reap- 
ing ? "  said  Mowgli. 

"There  was  no  plowing,"  said  Hathi. 

"  And  to  the  men  that  live  by  the  green  crops 
on  the  ground  ?  "  said  Mowgli. 

"They  went  away." 

"And  to  the  huts  in  which  the  men  slept?" 
said  Mowgli. 

"We  tore  the  roofs  to  pieces,  and  the  Jungle 
swallowed  up  the  walls,"  said  Hathi. 

"  And  what  more  ?  "  said  Mowgli. 

"  As  much  good  ground  as  I  can  walk  over  in 
two  nights  from  the  east  to  the  west,  and  from 
the  north  to  the  south  as  much  as  I  can  walk  over 
in  three  nights,  the  Jungle  took.  We  let  in  the 
Jungle  upon  five  villages ;  and  in  those  villages, 
and  in  their  lands,  the  grazing-ground  and  the 
soft  crop-grounds,  there  is  not  one  man  to-day 


ioo  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

who  takes  his  food  from  the  ground.  That  was 
the  Sack  of  the  Fields  of  Bhurtpore,  which  I  and 
my  three  sons  did;  and  now  I  ask,  Man-cub,  how 
the  news  of  it  came  to  thee?  "  said  Hathi. 

"  A  man  told  me,  and  now  I  see  even  Buldeo 
can  speak  truth.  It  was  well  done,  Hathi  with 
the  white  mark ;  but  the  second  time  it  shall  be 
done  better,  for  the  reason  that  there  is  a  man  to 
direct.  Thou  knowest  the  village  of  the  Man- 
Pack  that  cast  me  out  ?  They  are  idle,  senseless, 
and  cruel;  they  play  with  their  mouths,  and  they 
do  not  kill  the  weaker  for  food,  but  for  sport. 
When  they  are  full-fed  they  would  throw  their 
own  breed  into  the  Red  Flower.  This  I  have 
seen.  It  is  not  well  that  they  should  live  here 
any  more.      I  hate  them  !  " 

"  Kill,  then,"  said  the  youngest  of  Hathi's  three 
sons,  picking  up  a  tuft  of  grass,  dusting  it  against 
his  fore  legs,  and  throwing  it  away,  while  his 
little  red  eyes  glanced  furtively  from  side  to 
side. 

"  What  good  are  white  bones  to  me  ?  "  Mowgli 
answered  angrily.  "Am  I  the  cub  of  a  wolf  to 
play  in  the  sun  with  a  raw  head  ?  I  have  killed 
Shere  Khan,  and  his  hide  rots  on  the  Council 
Rock;  but  —  but  I  do  not  know  whither  Shere 
Khan  is  gone,   and   my  stomach   is  still  empty. 


LETTING    IN   THE  JUNGLE  101 

Now  I  will  take  that  which  I  can  see  and  touch. 
Let  in  the  Jungle  upon  that  village,  Hathi !  " 

Bagheera  shivered,  and  cowered  down.  He 
could  understand,  if  the  worst  came  to  the  worst, 
a  quick  rush  down  the  village  street,  and  a 
right  and  left  blow  into  a  crowd,  or  a  crafty 
killing  of  men  as  they  plowed  in  the  twilight, 
but  this  scheme  for  deliberately  blotting  out 
an  entire  village  from  the  eyes  of  man  and 
beast  frightened  him.  Now  he  saw  why  Movv- 
gli  had  sent  for  Hathi.  No  one  but  the  long- 
lived  elephant  could  plan  and  carry  through 
such  a  war. 

"  Let  them  run  as  the  men  ran  from  the  fields 
of  Bhurtpore,  till  we  have  the  rain-water  for  the 
only  plow,  and  the  noise  of  the  rain  on  the  thick 
leaves  for  the  pattering  of  their  spindles  —  till 
Bagheera  and  I  lair  in  the  house  of  the  Brahmin, 
and  the  buck  drink  at  the  tank  behind  the  tem- 
ple !     Let  in  the  Jungle,  Hathi !  " 

"But  I  —  but  we  have  no  quarrel  with  them, 
and  it  needs  the  red  rage  of  great  pain  ere  we 
tear  down  the  places  where  men  sleep,"  said 
Hathi,   doubtfully. 

"  Are  ye  the  only  eaters  of  grass  in  the  Jungle  ? 
Drive  in  your  peoples.  Let  the  deer  and  the  pig 
and  the  nilghai  look  to  it.     Ye  need  never  show 


102  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

a  hand's-breadth  of  hide  till  the  fields  are  naked. 
Let  in  the  Jungle,  Hathi !  " 

"  There  will  be  no  killing?  My  tusks  were  red 
at  the  Sack  of  the  Fields  of  Bhurtpore,  and  I  would 
not  wake  that  smell  again." 

"  Nor  I.  I  do  not  wish  even  their  bones  to  lie 
on  the  clean  earth.  Let  them  go  and  find  a  fresh 
lair.  They  cannot  stay  here.  I  have  seen  and 
smelled  the  blood  of  the  woman  that  orave  me  food 
—  the  woman  whom  they  would  have  killed  but 
for  me.  Only  the  smell  of  the  new  grass  on  their 
door- steps  can  take  away  that  smell.  It  burns  in 
my  mouth.      Let  in  the  Jungle,  Hathi !  " 

"  Ah  !  "  said  Hathi.  "  So  did  the  scar  of  the 
stake  burn  on  my  hide  till  we  watched  the  villages 
die  under  in  the  spring  growth.  Now  I  see. 
Thy  war  shall  be  our  war.  We  will  let  in  the 
Jungle !  " 

Mowgli  had  hardly  time  to  catch  his  breath  — 
he  was  shaking  all  over  with  rage  and  hate  —  be- 
fore the  place  where  the  elephants  had  stood  was 
empty,  and  Bagheera  was  looking  at  him  with 
terror. 

"  By  the  Broken  Lock  that  freed  me  ! "  said  the 
Black  Panther  at  last.  "  Art  thou  the  naked  thingf 
I  spoke  for  in  the  Pack  when  all  was  young? 
Master  of  the  Jungle,  when  my  strength  goes, 


LETTING   IN   THE   JUNGLE  103 

speak  for  me  —  speak  for  Baloo  —  speak  for  us 
all !  We  are  cubs  before  thee  !  Snapped  twigs 
under  foot !     Fawns  that  have  lost  their  doe  !  " 

The  idea  of  Bagheera  being  a  stray  fawn  upset 
Mowgli  altogether,  and  he  laughed  and  caught 
his  breath,  and  sobbed  and  laughed  again,  till  he 
had  to  jump  into  a  pool  to  make  himself  stop. 
Then  he  swam  round  and  round,  ducking  in  and 
out  of  the  bars  of  the  moonlight  like  the  frog,  his 
namesake. 

By  this  time  Hathi  and  his  three  sons  had 
turned,  each  to  one  point  of  the  compass,  and 
were  striding  silently  down  the  valleys  a  mile 
away.  They  went  on  and  on  for  two  days'  march 
—  that  is  to  say,  a  long  sixty  miles  —  through  the 
Jungle  ;  and  every  step  they  took,  and  every  wave 
of  their  trunks,  was  known  and  noted  and  talked 
over  by  Mang  and  Chil  and  the  Monkey  People 
and  all  the  birds.  Then  they  began  to  feed,  and 
fed  quietly  for  a  week  or  so.  Hathi  and  his  sons 
are  like  Kaa,  the  Rock  Python.  They  never  hurry 
till  they  have  to. 

At  the  end  of  that  time  —  and  none  knew  who 
had  started  it  —  a  rumor  went  through  the  Jungle 
that  there  was  better  food  and  water  to  be  found 
in  such  and  such  a  valley.  The  pig  —  who,  of 
course,  will  go  to  the  ends  of  the  earth  for  a  full 


104  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

meal  —  moved  first  by  companies,  scuffling  over 
the  rocks,  and  the  deer  followed,  with  the  small  wild 
foxes  that  live  on  the  dead  and  dying  of  the  herds  ; 
and  the  heavy-shouldered  nilghai  moved  parallel 
with  the  deer,  and  the  wild  buffaloes  of  the  swamps 
came  after  the  nilghai.  The  least  little  thing- 
would  have  turned  the  scattered,  straggling  droves 
that  grazed  and  sauntered  and  drank  and  grazed 
again  ;  but  whenever  there  was  an  alarm  some 
one  would  rise  up  and  soothe  them.  At  one  time 
it  would  be  Sahi  the  Porcupine,  full  of  news  of 
good  feed  just  a  little  further  on  ;  at  another  Mang 
would  cry  cheerily  and  flap  down  a  glade  to  show 
it  was  all  empty;  or  Baloo,  his  mouth  full  of 
roots,  would  shamble  alongside  a  wavering  line 
and  half  frighten,  half  romp  it  clumsily  back  to 
the  proper  road.  Very  many  creatures  broke  back 
or  ran  away  or  lost  interest,  but  very  many  were 
left  to  go  forward.  At  the  end  of  another  ten 
days  or  so  the  situation  was  this.  The  deer  and 
the  pig  and  the  nilghai  were  milling  round  and 
round  in  a  circle  of  eight  or  ten  miles  radius,  while 
the  Eaters  of  Flesh  skirmished  round  its  edge. 
And  the  center  of  that  circle  was  the  village,  and 
round  the  village  the  crops  were  ripening,  and  in 
the  crops  sat  men  on  what  they  call  machans  — 
platforms  like  pigeon-perches,  made  of  sticks  at 


LETTING    IN   THE   JUNGLE  105 

the  top  of  four  poles  —  to  scare  away  birds  and 
other  stealers.  Then  the  deer  were  coaxed  no 
more.  The  Eaters  of  Flesh  were  close  behind 
them,  and  forced  them  forward  and  inward. 

It  was  a  dark  night  when  Hathi  and  his  three 
sons  slipped  down  from  the  Jungle,  and  broke 
off  the  poles  of  the  machans  with  their  trunks ; 
they  fell  as  a  snapped  stalk  of  hemlock  in  bloom 
falls,  and  the  men  that  tumbled  from  them  heard 
the  deep  gurgling  of  the  elephants  in  their 
ears.  Then  the  vanguard  of  the  bewildered 
armies  of  the  deer  broke  down  and  flooded  into 
the  village  grazing-grounds  and  the  plowed 
fields ;  and  the  sharp-hoofed,  rooting  wild  pig 
came  with  them,  and  what  the  deer  left  the  pig 
spoiled,  and  from  time  to  time  an  alarm  of  wolves 
would  shake  the  herds,  and  they  would  rush  to 
and  fro  desperately,  treading  down  the  young 
barley,  and  cutting  flat  the  banks  of  the  irrigating 
channels.  Before  the  dawn  broke  the  pressure 
on  the  outside  of  the  circle  gave  way  at  one  point. 
The  Eaters  of  Flesh  had  fallen  back  and  left  an 
open  path  to  the  south,  and  drove  upon  drove  of 
buck  fled  along  it.  Others,  who  were  bolder,  lay 
up  in  the  thickets  to  finish  their  meal  next  night. 

But  the  work  was  practically  done.  When  the 
villagers  looked  in  the  morning  they  saw  their 


106  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

crops  were  lost.  And  that  meant  death  if  they 
did  not  get  away,  for  they  lived  year  in  and  year 
out  as  near  to  starvation  as  the  Jungle  was  near 
to  them.  When  the  buffaloes  were  sent  to  graze 
the  hungry  brutes  found  that  the  deer  had  cleared 
the  grazing-grounds,  and  so  wandered  into  the 
Jungle  and  drifted  off  with  their  wild  mates;  and 
when  twilight  fell  the  three  or  four  ponies  that 
belonged  to  the  village  lay  in  their  stables  with 
their  heads  beaten  in.  Only  Bagheera  could 
have  given  those  strokes,  and  only  Bagheera 
would  have  thought  of  insolently  dragging  the 
last  carcass  to  the  open  street. 

The  villagers  had  no  heart  to  make  fires  in  the 
fields  that  night,  so  Hathi  and  his  three  sons  went 
gleaning  among  what  was  left ;  and  where  Hathi 
gleans  there  is  no  need  to  follow.  The  men  de- 
cided to  live  on  their  stored  seed-corn  until  the 
rains  had  fallen,  and  then  to  take  work  as  ser- 
vants till  they  could  catch  up  with  the  lost  year  ; 
but  as  the  grain-dealer  was  thinking  of  his  well- 
filled  crates  of  corn,  and  the  prices  he  would  levy 
at  the  sale  of  it,  Hathi's  sharp  tusks  were  picking 
out  the  corner  of  his  mud  house,  and  smashing 
open  the  big  wicker-chest,  leeped  with  cow-dung, 
where  the  precious  stuff  lay. 

When  that  last  loss  was  discovered,  it  was  the 


LETTING    IN   THE   JUNGLE  107 

Brahmin's  turn  to  speak.  He  had  prayed  to  his 
own  Gods  without  answer.  It  might  be,  he  said, 
that,  unconsciously,  the  village  had  offended  some 
one  of  the  Gods  of  the  Jungle,  for,  beyond  doubt, 
the  Jungle  was  against  them.  So  they  sent  for 
the  head  man  of  the  nearest  tribe  of  wandering 
Gonds —  little,  wise,  and  very  black  hunters,  living 
in  the  deep  Jungle,  whose  fathers  came  of  the  old- 
est race  in  India  —  the  aboriginal  owners  of  the 
land.  They  made  the  Gond  welcome  with  what 
they  had,  and  he  stood  on  one  leg,  his  bow  in  his 
hand,  and  two  or  three  poisoned  arrows  stuck 
through  his  top-knot,  looking  half  afraid  and  half 
contemptuously  at  the  anxious  villagers  and  their 
ruined  fields.  They  wished  to  know  whether  his 
Gods  —  the  Old  Gods  —  were  angry  with  them, 
and  what  sacrifices  should  be  offered.  The  Gond 
said  nothing,  but  picked  up  a  trail  of  the  Karela, 
the  vine  that  bears  the  bitter  wild  gourd,  and 
laced  it  to  and  fro  across  the  temple  door  in  the 
face  of  the  staring  red  Hindu  image.  Then  he 
pushed  with  his  hand  in  the  open  air  along  the 
road  to  Kanhiwara,  and  went  back  to  his  Jungle, 
and  watched  the  Jungle  people  drifting  through 
it.  He  knew  that  when  the  Jungle  moves  only 
white  men  can  hope  to  turn  it  aside. 

There  was  no  need  to  ask  his  meaning.     The 


108  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

wild  gourd  would  grow  where  they  had  wor- 
shiped their  God,  and  the  sooner  they  saved 
themselves  the  better. 

But  it  is  hard  to  tear  a  village  from  its  moor- 
ings. They  stayed  on  as  long  as  any  summer 
food  was  left  to  them,  and  they  tried  to  gather 
nuts  in  the  Jungle,  but  shadows  with  glaring  eyes 
watched  them,  and  rolled  before  them  even  at 
midday ;  and  when  they  ran  back  afraid  to  their 
walls,  on  the  tree  trunks  they  had  passed  not 
five  minutes  before  the  bark  would  be  stripped 
and  chiseled  with  the  stroke  of  some  great  taloned 
paw.  The  more  they  kept  to  their  village,  the 
bolder  grew  the  wild  things  that  gamboled  and 
bellowed  on  the  grazing-grounds  by  the  Wain- 
gunga.  They  had  no  time  to  patch  and  plaster 
the  rear  walls  of  the  empty  byres  that  backed  on 
to  the  Jungle  ;  the  wild  pig  trampled  them  down, 
and  the  knotty-rooted  vines  hurried  after  and 
threw  their  elbows  over  the  new-won  ground,  and 
the  coarse  grass  bristled  behind  the  vines  like  the 
lances  of  a  goblin  army  following  a  retreat.  The 
unmarried  men  ran  away  first,  and  carried  the 
news  far  and  near  that  the  village  was  doomed. 
Who  could  fight,  they  said,  against  the  Jungle, 
or  the  Gods  of  the  Jungle,  when  the  very  village 
cobra  had  left  his  hole  in  the  platform  under  the 


LETTING   IN   THE   JUNGLE  109 

peepul-tree  ?  So  their  little  commerce  with  the 
outside  world  shrunk  as  the  trodden  paths  across 
the  open  grew  fewer  and  fainter.  At  last  the 
nightly  trumpetings  of  Hathi  and  his  three  sons 
ceased  to  trouble  them ;  for  they  had  no  more  to 
be  robbed  of.  The  crop  on  the  ground  and  the 
seed  in  the  ground  had  been  taken.  The  out- 
lying fields  were  already  losing  their  shape,  and 
it  was  time  to  throw  themselves  on  the  charity 
of  the  English  at  Kanhiwara. 

Native  fashion,  they  delayed  their  departure 
from  one  day  to  another  till  the  first  Rains  caught 
them  and  the  unmended  roofs  let  in  a  flood,  and 
the  grazing-ground  stood  ankle  deep,  and  all 
life  came  on  with  a  rush  after  the  heat  of  the 
summer.  Then  they  waded  out,  men,  women, 
and  children,  through  the  blinding  hot  rain  of  the 
morning,  but  turned  naturally  for  one  farewell 
look  at  their  homes. 

They  heard,  as  the  last  burdened  family  filed 
through  the  gate,  a  crash  of  falling  beams  and 
thatch  behind  the  walls.  They  saw  a  shiny, 
snaky  black  trunk  lifted  for  an  instant,  scattering 
sodden  thatch.  It  disappeared,  and  there  was 
another  crash,  followed  by  a  squeal.  Hathi  had 
been  plucking  off  the  roofs  of  the  huts  as  you 
pluck   water-lilies,   and  a  rebounding  beam  had 


no  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

pricked  him.  He  needed  only  this  to  unchain 
his  full  strength,  for  of  all  things  in  the  Jungle 
the  wild  elephant  enraged  is  the  most  wantonly 
destructive.  He  kicked  backward  at  a  mud  wall 
that  crumbled  at  the  stroke,  and,  crumbling, 
melted  to  yellow  mud  under  the  torrent  of  rain. 
Then  he  wheeled  and  squealed,  and  tore  through 
the  narrow  streets,  leaning  against  the  huts  right 
and  left,  shivering  the  crazy  doors,  and  crumpling 
up  the  eaves ;  while  his  three  sons  raged  behind 
as  they  had  raged  at  the  Sack  of  the  Fields  of 
Bhurtpore. 

"The  Jungle  will  swallow  these  shells,"  said  a 
quiet  voice  in  the  wreckage.  "  It  is  the  outer 
wall  that  must  lie  down,"  and  Mowgli,  with  the 
rain  sluicing  over  his  bare  shoulders  and  arms, 
leaped  back  from  a  wall  that  was  settling  like  a 
tired  buffalo. 

"All  in  good  time,"  panted  Hathi.  "  Oh,  but 
my  tusks  were  red  at  Bhurtpore !  To  the  outer 
wall,  children  !  With  the  head  !  Together ! 
Now ! " 

The  four  pushed  side  by  side  ;  the  outer  wall 
bulged,  split,  and  fell,  and  the  villagers,  dumb 
with  horror,  saw  the  savage,  clay-streaked  heads 
of  the  wreckers  in  the  ragged  gap.  Then  they 
fled,  houseless  and  foodless,  down  the  valley,  as 


LETTING    IN   THE  JUNGLE  in 

their  village,  shredded  and  tossed  and  trampled, 
melted  behind  them. 

A  month  later  the  place  was  a  dimpled  mound, 
covered  with  soft,  green  young  stuff;  and  by  the 
end  of  the  Rains  there  was  the  roaring  Jungle 
in  full  blast  on  the  spot  that  had  been  under  plow 
not  six  months  before. 


MOWGLI'S    SONG   AGAINST  PEOPLE 

WILL  let  loose  against  you  the  fleet-footed 
vines  — 
I  will  call  in  the  Jungle  to  stamp  out  your 
lines  ! 
The  roofs  shall  fade  before  it, 
The  house-beams  shall  fall, 
And  the  Karela,  the  bitter  Karela, 
Shall  cover  it  all ! 

In  the  gates  of  these  your  councils  my 

people  shall  sing, 
In  the  doors  of  these  your  garners  the 
Bat-folk  shall  cling ; 
And  the  snake  shall  be  your  watchman, 

By  a  hearthstone  unswept ; 
For  the  Karela,  the  bitter  Karela, 
Shall  fruit  where  ye  slept ! 


Ye  shall  not  see  my  strikers  ;  ye  shall  hear  them  and 

guess  ; 
By  night,  before  the  moon-rise,  I  will  send  for  my  cess, 
And  the  wolf  shall  be  your  herdsman 

By  a  landmark  removed, 
For  the  Karela,  the  bitter  Karela, 
Shall  seed  where  ye  loved  ! 


LETTING   IN   THE   JUNGLE  113 

I  will  reap  your  fields  before  you  at  the  hands  of  a  host; 
Ye  shall  glean  behind  my  reapers  for  the  bread  that  is 
lost ; 
And  the  deer  shall  be  your  oxen 

By  a  headland  unfilled, 
For  the  Karela,  the  bitter  Karcla, 
Shall  leaf  where  ye  build  ! 

I  have  untied  against  you  the  club-footed  vines, 
I  have  sent  in  the  Jungle  to  swamp  out  your  lines  1 
The  trees — the  trees  are  on  you  ! 

The  house-beams  shall  fall, 
'  And  the  Karela,  the  bitter  Karela, 
Shall  cover  you  all ! 


THE   UNDERTAKERS 


When  ye  say  to  Tabaqui,  "My  Brother!"  when    ye    call    the 

Hyena  to  meat, 
Ye  may  cry  the  Full  Truce  with  Jacala — the  Belly  that  runs  on 

four  feet. 

—  Jungle  Law. 


THE    UNDERTAKERS 


|ESPECT  the  aged!" 

It  was  a  thick  voice — a 
muddy  voice  that  would  have 
made  you  shudder — a  voice 
like  something  soft  breaking 
in  two.  There  was  a  quaver 
in  it,  a  croak  and  a  whine. 
"  Respect  the  aged  !  O 
Companions  of  the  River — respect  the  aged  !  " 

Nothing  could  be  seen  on  the  broad  reach  of 
the  river  except  a  little  fleet  of  square-sailed, 
wooden-pinned  barges,  loaded  with  building- 
stone,  that  had  just  come  under  the  railway 
bridge,  and  were  driving  down-stream.  They  put 
their  clumsy  helms  over  to  avoid  the  sand-bar 


n8  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

made  by  the  scour  of  the  bridge-piers,  and  as  they 
passed,  three  abreast,  the  horrible  voice  began 
again : 

"  O  Brahmins  of  the  River — respect  the  aged 
and  infirm  ! " 

A  boatman  turned  where  he  sat  on  the  gun- 
wale, lifted  up  his  hand,  said  something  that  was 
not  a  blessing,  and  the  boats  creaked  on  through 
the  twilight.  The  broad  Indian  river,  that  looked 
more  like  a  chain  of  little  lakes  than  a  stream, 
was  as  smooth  as  glass,  reflecting  the  sandy-red 
sky  in  mid-channel,  but  splashed  with  patches  of 
yellow  and  dusky  purple  near  and  under  the  low 
banks.  Little  creeks  ran  into  the  river  in  the  wet 
season,  but  now  their  dry  mouths  hung  clear  above 
water-line.  On  the  left  shore,  and  almost  under 
the  railway  bridge,  stood  a  mud-and-brick  and 
thatch-and-stick  village,  whose  main  street,  full 
of  cattle  going  back  to  their  byres,  ran  straight 
to  the  river,  and  ended  in  a  sort  of  rude  brick 
pier-head,  where  people  who  wanted  to  wash  could 
wade  in  step  by  step.  That  was  the  Ghaut  of 
the  village  of  Mugger- Ghaut. 

Nieht  was  falling  fast  over  the  fields  of  lentils 
and  rice  and  cotton  in  the  low-lying  ground 
yearly  flooded  by  the  river ;  over  the  reeds  that 
fringed  the  elbow  of  the  bend,  and  the  tangled 


THE   UNDERTAKERS  119 

low  jungle  of  the  grazing-grounds  behind  the 
still  reeds.  The  parrots  and  crows,  who  had 
been  chattering  and  shouting  over  their  evening 
drink,  had  flown  inland  to  roost,  crossing  the  out- 
going battalions  of  the  flying-foxes ;  and  cloud 
upon  cloud  of  water-birds  came  whistling  and 
"honking"  to  the  cover  of  the  reed-beds.  There 
were  geese,  barrel-headed  and  black-backed,  teal, 
widgeon,  mallard,  and  sheldrake,  with  curlews, 
and  here  and  there  a  flamingo. 

A  lumbering  Adjutant-crane  brought  up  the 
rear,  flying  as  though  each  slow  stroke  would  be 
his  last. 

"  Respect  the  aged  !  Brahmins  of  the  River — 
respect  the  aged  !  " 

The  Adjutant  half  turned  his  head,  sheered  a 
little  in  the  direction  of  the  voice,  and  landed 
stiffly  on  the  sand-bar  below  the  bridge.  Then 
you  saw  what  a  ruffianly  brute  he  really  was. 
His  back  view  was  immensely  respectable,  for  he 
stood  nearly  six  feet  high,  and  looked  rather  like 
a  very  proper  bald-headed  parson.  In  front  it 
was  different,  for  his  Ally  Sloper-like  head  and 
neck  had  not  a  feather  to  them,  and  there  was  a 
horrible  raw-skin  pouch  on  his  neck  under  his 
chin — a  hold-all  for  the  things  his  pickaxe  beak 
might  steal.     His  legs  were  long  and  thin  and 


120  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

skinny,  but  he  moved  them  delicately,  and  looked 
at  them  with  pride  as  he  preened  down  his  ashy- 
gray  tail-feathers,  glanced  over  the  smooth  of  his 
shoulder,  and  stiffened  into  "  Stand  at  attention." 

A  mangy  little  Jackal,  who  had  been  yapping 
hungrily  on  a  low  bluff,  cocked  up  his  ears  and 
tail,  and  scuttered  across  the  shallows  to  join  the 
Adjutant. 

He  was  the  lowest  of  his  caste — not  that  the 
best  of  jackals  are  good  for  much,  but  this  one 
was  peculiarly  low,  being  half  a  beggar,  half  a 
criminal  —  a  cleaner-up  of  village  rubbish-heaps, 
desperately  timid  or  wildly  bold,  everlastingly 
hungry,  and  full  of  cunning  that  never  did  him 
any  good. 

"  Ugh  !  "  he  said,  shaking  himself  dolefully  as 
he  landed.  "  May  the  red  mange  destroy  the 
dogs  of  this  village  !  I  have  three  bites  for  each 
flea  upon  me,  and  all  because  I  looked  —  only 
looked,  mark  you  —  at  an  old  shoe  in  a  cow-byre. 
Can  I  eat  mud?"  He  scratched  himself  under 
his  left  ear. 

"  I  heard,"  said  the  Adjutant,  in  a  voice  like  a 
blunt  saw  o-oin£  through  a  thick  board  —  "  I  heard 
there  was  a  new-born  puppy  in  that  same  shoe." 

"To  hear  is  one  thing;  to  know  is  another," 
said  the  Jackal,  who  had  a  very  fair  knowledge 


THE   UNDERTAKERS  121 

of  proverbs,  picked  up  by  listening  to  men  round 
the  village  fires  of  an  evening. 

"  Quite  true.  So,  to  make  sure,  I  took  care  of 
that  puppy  while  the  dogs  were  busy  elsewhere." 

"They  were  very  busy,"  said  the  Jackal. 
"Well,  I  must  not  go  to  the  village  hunting  for 
scraps  yet  awhile.  And  so  there  truly  was  a 
blind  puppy  in  that  shoe  ?  " 

"  It  is  here,"  said  the  Adjutant,  squinting  over 
his  beak  at  his  full  pouch.  "A  small  thing,  but 
acceptable  now  that  charity  is  dead  in  the  world." 

"  Ahai !  The  world  is  iron  in  these  days," 
wailed  the  Jackal.  Then  his  restless  eye  caught 
the  least  possible  ripple  on  the  water,  and  he 
went  on  quickly :  "  Life  is  hard  for  us  all,  and  I 
doubt  not  that  even  our  excellent  master,  the 
Pride  of  the  Ghaut  and  the  Envy  of  the  River — " 

"  A  liar,  a  flatterer,  and  a  Jackal  were  all 
hatched  out  of  the  same  egg,"  said  the  Adjutant 
to  nobody  in  particular ;  for  he  was  rather  a  fine 
sort  of  a  liar  on  his  own  account  when  he  took 
the  trouble. 

"  Yes,  the  Envy  of  the  River,"  the  Jackal  re- 
peated, raising  his  voice.  "  Even  he,  I  doubt 
not,  finds  that  since  the  bridge  has  been  built 
good  food  is  more  scarce.  But  on  the  other  hand, 
though   I   would   by   no   means    say   this  to  his 


122  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

noble  face,  he  is  so  wise  and  so  virtuous — as  I, 
alas  !  am  not — " 

"When  the  Jackal  owns  he  is  gray,  how  black 
must  the  Jackal  be  !  "  muttered  the  Adjutant.  He 
could  not  see  what  was  coming. 

"  That  his  food  never  fails,  and  in  conse- 
quence— " 

There  was  a  soft  grating  sound,  as  though  a 
boat  had  just  touched  in  shoal  water.  The  Jackal 
spun  round  quickly  and  faced  (it  is  always  best 
to  face)  the  creature  he  had  been  talking  about. 
It  was  a  twenty-four-foot  crocodile,  cased  in  what 
looked  like  treble-riveted  boiler-plate,  studded 
and  keeled  and  crested ;  the  yellow  points  of  his 
upper  teeth  just  overhanging  his  beautifully 
fluted  lower  jaw.  It  was  the  blunt-nosed  Mugger 
of  Mugger- Ghaut,  older  than  any  man  in  the 
village,  who  had  given  his  name  to  the  village; 
the  demon  of  the  ford  before  the  railway  bridge 
came — murderer,  man-eater,  and  local  fetish  in 
one.  He  lay  with  his  chin  in  the  shallows,  keep- 
ing his  place  by  an  almost  invisible  rippling  of 
his  tail,  and  well  the  Jackal  knew  that  one  stroke 
of  that  same  tail  in  the  water  could  carry  the 
Mugger  up  the  bank  with  the  rush  of  a  steam- 
engine. 

"  Auspiciously  met,  Protector  of  the  Poor !  "  he 


THE    UNDERTAKERS  123 

fawned,  backing  at  every  word.  "  A  delectable 
voice  was  heard,  and  we  came  in  the  hopes  of 
sweet  conversation.  My  tailless  presumption, 
while  waiting  here,  led  me,  indeed,  to  speak  of 
thee.      It  is  my  hope  that  nothing  was  overheard." 

Now  the  Jackal  had  spoken  just  to  be  listened 
to,  for  he  knew  flattery  was  the  best  way  of  get- 
ting things  to  eat,  and  the  Mugger  knew  that  the 
Jackal  had  spoken  for  this  end,  and  the  Jackal 
knew  that  the  Mugger  knew,  and  the  Mugger 
knew  that  the  Jackal  knew  that  the  Mugger 
knew,  and  so  they  were  all  very  contented  to- 
gether. 

The  old  brute  pushed  and  panted  and  grunted 
up  the  bank,  mumbling,  "  Respect  the  aged  and 
infirm ! "  and  all  the  time  his  little  eyes  burned 
like  coals  under  the  heavy,  horny  eyelids  on  the 
top  of  his  triangular  head,  as  he  shoved  his 
bloated  barrel-body  along  between  his  crutched 
legs.  Then  he  settled  down,  and,  accustomed  as 
the  Jackal  was  to  his  ways,  he  could  not  help 
starting,  for  the  hundredth  time,  when  he  saw  how 
exactly  the  Mugger  imitated  a  log  adrift  on  the 
bar.  He  had  even  taken  pains  to  lie  at  the 
exact  angle  a  naturally  stranded  log  would  make 
with  the  water,  having  regard  to  the  current  of 
the  season  at  the  time  and  place.     All  this  was 


124  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

only  a  matter  of  habit,  of  course,  because  the 
Mugger  had  come  ashore  for  pleasure ;  but  a 
crocodile  is  never  quite  full,  and  if  the  Jackal 
had  been  deceived  by  the  likeness  he  would  not 
have  lived  to  philosophize  over  it. 

"  My  child,  I  heard  nothing,"  said  the  Mugger, 
shutting  one  eye.  "The  water  was  in  my  ears, 
and  also  I  was  faint  with  hunger.  Since  the  rail- 
way bridge  was  built  my  people  at  my  village 
have  ceased  to  love  me  ;  and  that  is  breaking  my 
heart." 

"Ah,  shame!"  said  the  Jackal.  "So  noble  a 
heart,  too !     But  men  are  all  alike,  to  my  mind." 

"  Nay,  there  are  very  great  differences  indeed," 
the  Mugger  answered  gently.  "  Some  are  as 
lean  as  boat-poles.  Others  again  are  fat  as 
young  ja —  dogs.  Never  would  I  causelessly 
revile  men.  They  are  of  all  fashions,  but  the 
long  years  have  shown  me  that,  one  with  another, 
they  are  very  good.  Men,  women,  and  children — 
I  have  no  fault  to  find  with  them.  And  remem- 
ber, child,  he  who  rebukes  the  World  is  rebuked 
by  the  World." 

"  Flattery  is  worse  than  an  empty  tin  can  in 
the  belly.  But  that  which  we  have  just  heard  is 
wisdom,"  said  the  Adjutant,  bringing  down  one 
foot. 


THE   UNDERTAKERS  125 

"  Consider,  though,  their  ingratitude  to  this  ex- 
cellent one,"  began  the  Jackal  tenderly. 

"  Nay,  nay,  not  ingratitude  !  "  the  Mugger  said. 
"They  do  not  think  for  others;  that  is  all.  But 
I  have  noticed,  lying  at  my  station  below  the 
ford,  that  the  stairs  of  the  new  bridge  are  cruelly 
hard  to  climb,  both  for  old  people  and  young 
children.  The  old,  indeed,  are  not  so  worthy 
of  consideration,  but  I  am  grieved — I  am  truly 
grieved  — -  on  account  of  the  fat  children.  Still,  I 
think,  in  a  little  while,  when  the  newness  of  the 
bridge  has  worn  away,  we  shall  see  my  people's 
bare  brown  legs  bravely  splashing  through  the 
ford  as  before.  Then  the  old  Mugger  will  be 
honored  again." 

"  But  surely  I  saw  marigold  wreaths  floating 
off  the  edge  of  the  Ghaut  only  this  noon,"  said 
the  Adjutant. 

Marigold  wreaths  are  a  sign  of  reverence  all 
India  over. 

"  An  error  —  an  error.  It  was  the  wife  of  the 
sweetmeat-seller.  She  loses  her  eyesight  year 
by  year,  and  cannot  tell  a  log  from  me  —  the 
Mugger  of  the  Ghaut.  I  saw  the  mistake  when 
she  threw  the  garland,  for  I  was  lying  at  the  very 
foot  of  the  Ghaut,  and  had  she  taken  another 
step  I  might  have  shown  her  some  little  differ- 


126  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

ence.  Yet  she  meant  well,  and  we  must  con- 
sider the  spirit  of  the  offering." 

"  What  orood  are  marigold  wreaths  when  one 

o  o 

is  on  the  rubbish-heap  ?  "  said  the  Jackal,  hunting 
for  fleas,  but  keeping  one  wary  eye  on  his  Pro- 
tector of  the  Poor. 

"  True,  but  they  have  not  yet  begun  to  make 
the  rubbish-heap  that  shall  carry  me.  Five  times 
have  I  seen  the  river  draw  back  from  the  village 
and  make  new  land  at  the  foot  of  the  street.  Five 
times  have  I  seen  the  village  rebuilt  on  the 
banks,  and  I  shall  see  it  built  yet  five  times 
more.  I  am  no  faithless,  fish-hunting  Gavial,  I, 
at  Kasi  to-day  and  Prayag  to-morrow,  as  the 
saying  is,  but  the  true  and  constant  watcher  of 
the  ford.  It  is  not  for  nothing,  child,  that  the 
village  bears  my  name,  and  '  he  who  watches 
long,'  as  the  saying  is,  'shall  at  last  have  his 
reward.' " 

"/have  watched  long — very  long — nearly  all 
my  life,  and  my  reward  has  been  bites  and  blows," 
said  the  Jackal. 

"  Ho  !  ho  !  ho  !  "  roared  the  Adjutant. 

"  In  August  was  the  Jackal  born  ; 
The  Rains  fell  in  September  ; 
'  Now  such  a  fearful  flood  as  this,' 
Says  he,  '  I  can't  remember  ! '  " 


THE   UNDERTAKERS  127 

There  is  one  very  unpleasant  peculiarity  about 
the  Adjutant.  At  uncertain  times  he  suffers 
from  acute  attacks  of  the  fidgets  or  cramp  in  his 
legs,  and  though  he  is  more  virtuous  to  behold 
than  any  of  the  cranes,  who  are  all  immensely 
respectable,  he  flies  off  into  wild,  cripple-stilt 
war-dances,  half  opening  his  wings  and  bobbing 
his  bald  head  up  and  down ;  while  for  reasons 
best  known  to  himself  he  is  very  careful  to  time 
his  worst  attacks  with  his  nastiest  remarks.  At 
the  last  word  of  his  song  he  came  to  attention 
again,  ten  times  adjutaunter  than  before. 

The  Jackal  winced,  though  he  was  full  three 
seasons  old,  but  you  cannot  resent  an  insult  from 
a  person  with  a  beak  a  yard  long,  and  the  power 
of  driving  it  like  a  javelin.  The  Adjutant  was 
a  most  notorious  coward,  but  the  Jackal  was 
worse. 

"We  must  live  before  we  can  learn,"  said  the 
Mugger,  "  and  there  is  this  to  say  :  Little  jackals 
are  very  common,  child,  but  such  a  mugger  as  I  am 
is  not  common.  For  all  that,  I  am  not  proud,  since 
pride  is  destruction ;  but  take  notice,  it  is  Fate, 
and  against  his  Fate  no  one  who  swims  or  walks 
or  runs  should  say  anything  at  all.  I  am  well 
contented  with  Fate.  With  good  luck,  a  keen 
eye,   and  the  custom   of  considering  whether   a 


128  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

creek  or  a  backwater  has  an  outlet  to  it  ere  you 
ascend,  much  may  be  done." 

"  Once  I  heard  that  even  the  Protector  of  the 
Poor  made  a  mistake,"  said  the  Jackal  viciously. 

"True;  but  there  my  Fate  helped  me.  It 
was  before  I  had  come  to  my  full  growth  —  be- 
fore the  last  famine  but  three  (by  the  Right  and 
Left  of  Gunga,  how  full  used  the  streams  to  be  in 
those  days  !).  Yes,  I  was  young  and  unthinking, 
and  when  the  flood  came,  who  so  pleased  as  I  ? 
A  little  made  me  very  happy  then.  The  village 
was  deep  in  flood,  and  I  swam  above  the  Ghaut 
and  went  far  inland,  up  to  the  rice-fields,  and 
they  were  deep  in  good  mud.  I  remember  also 
a  pair  of  bracelets  (glass  they  were,  and  troubled 
me  not  a  little)  that  I  found  that  evening.  Yes, 
glass  bracelets ;  and,  if  my  memory  serves  me 
well,  a  shoe.  I  should  have  shaken  off  both 
shoes,  but  I  was  hungry.  I  learned  better  later. 
Yes.  And  so  I  fed  and  rested  me ;  but  when  I 
was  ready  to  go  to  the  river  again  the  flood  had 
fallen,  and  I  walked  through  the  mud  of  the  main 
street.  Who  but  I  ?  Came  out  all  my  people, 
priests  and  women  and  children,  and  I  looked 
upon  them  with  benevolence.  The  mud  is  not  a 
good  place  to  fight  in.  Said  a  boatman,  '  Get 
axes  and  kill  him,  for  he  is  the  Mugger  of  the 


THE   UNDERTAKERS  129 

ford.'  '  Not  so,'  said  the  Brahmin.  '  Look,  he  is 
driving  the  flood  before  him !  He  is  the  godling 
of  the  village.'  Then  they  threw  many  flowers 
at  me,  and  by  happy  thought  one  led  a  goat 
across  the  road." 

"  How  good  —  how  very  good  is  goat!  "  said 
the  Jackal. 

"Hairy  —  too  hairy,  and  when  found  in  the 
water  more  than  likely  to  hide  a  cross-shaped 
hook.  But  that  goat  I  accepted,  and  went  down 
to  the  Ghaut  in  great  honor.  Later,  my  Fate 
sent  me  the  boatman  who  had  desired  to  cut  off 
my  tail  with  an  axe.  His  boat  grounded  upon 
an  old  shoal  which  you  would  not  remember." 

"  We  are  not  all  jackals  here,"  said  the  Adju- 
tant. "Was  it  the  shoal  made  where  the  stone- 
boats  sank  in  the  year  of  the  great  drouth — a 
lone  shoal  that  lasted  three  floods  ?  " 

"  There  were  two,"  said  the  Mugger;  "  an  up- 
per and  a  lower  shoal." 

"  Ay,  I  forgot.  A  channel  divided  them,  and 
later  dried  up  again,"  said  the  Adjutant,  who 
prided  himself  on  his  memory. 

"  On  the  lower  shoal  my  well-wisher's  craft 
grounded.  He  was  sleeping  in  the  bows,  and, 
half  awake,  leaped  over  to  his  waist — no,  it  was 
no  more  than   to  his  knees — to  push  off.     His 


i3o  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

empty  boat  went  on  and  touched  again  below  the 
next  reach,  as  the  river  ran  then.  I  followed, 
because  I  knew  men  would  come  out  to  drag  it 
ashore." 

"  And  did  they  do  so  ? "  said  the  Jackal,  a  little 
awe-stricken.  This  was  hunting  on  a  scale  that 
impressed  him. 

"There  and  lower  down  they  did.  I  went  no 
further,  but  that  gave  me  three  in  one  day — well- 
fed  manjis  (boatmen)  all,  and,  except  in  the  case 
of  the  last  (then  I  was  careless),  never  a  cry  to 
warn  those  on  the  bank." 

"Ah,  noble  sport!  But  what  cleverness  and 
great  judgment  it  requires  !  "  said  the  Jackal. 

"  Not  cleverness,  child,  but  only  thought.  A 
little  thought  in  life  is  like  salt  upon  rice,  as  the 
boatmen  say,  and  I  have  thought  deeply  always. 
The  Gavial,  my  cousin,  the  fish-eater,  has  told  me 
how  hard  it  is  for  him  to  follow  his  fish,  and  how 
one  fish  differs  from  the  other,  and  how  he  must 
know  them  all,  both  together  and  apart.  I  say 
that  is  wisdom  ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  my  cousin, 
the  Gavial,  lives  among  his  people.  My  people 
do  not  swim  in  companies,  with  their  mouths  out 
of  the  water,  as  Rewa  does  ;  nor  do  they  con- 
stantly rise  to  the  surface  of  the  water,  and  turn 
over  on  their  sides,  like  Mohoo  and  little  Chapta  ; 


THE   UNDERTAKERS  131 

nor  do  they  gather  in  shoals  after  flood,  like 
Batchua  and  Chilwa." 

"All  are  very  good  eating,"  said  the  Adjutant, 
clattering  his  beak. 

"  So  my  cousin  says,  and  makes  a  great  to-do 
over  hunting  them,  but  they  do  not  climb  the 
banks  to  escape  his  sharp  nose.  My  people  are 
otherwise.  Their  life  is  on  the  land,  in  the  houses, 
among  the  cattle.  I  must  know  what  they  do, 
and  what  they  are  about  to  do ;  and,  adding  the 
tail  to  the  trunk,  as  the  saying  is,  I  make  up  the 
whole  elephant.  Is  there  a  green  branch  and  an 
iron  ring  hanging  over  a  doorway?  The  old 
Mugger  knows  that  a  boy  has  been  born  in  that 
house,  and  must  some  day  come  down  to  the 
Ghaut  to  play.  Is  a  maiden  to  be  married  ?  The 
old  Mugger  knows,  for  he  sees  the  men  carry 
gifts  back  and  forth ;  and  she,  too,  comes  down 
to  the  Ghaut  to  bathe  before  her  wedding,  and — 
he  is  there.  Has  the  river  changed  its  channel, 
and  made  new  land  where  there  was  only  sand 
before?     The  Mugger  knows." 

"Now,  of  what  use  is  that  knowledge?"  said 
the  Jackal.  "  The  river  has  shifted  even  in  my 
little  life."  Indian  rivers  are  nearly  always  mov- 
ing about  in  their  beds,  and  will  shift,  sometimes, 
as  much  as  two  or  three  miles  in  a  season,  drown- 


132  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

ing  the  fields  on  one  bank,  and  spreading  good 
silt  on  the  other. 

"  There  is  no  knowledge  so  useful,"  said  the 
Mugger,  "for  new  land  means  new  quarrels. 
The  Mugger  knows.  Oho  !  the  Mugger  knows. 
As  soon  as  the  water  has  drained  off,  he  creeps 
up  the  little  creeks  that  men  think  would  not  hide 
a  dog,  and  there  he  waits.  Presently  comes  a 
farmer  saying  he  will  plant  cucumbers  here,  and 
melons  there,  in  the  new  land  that  the  river  has 
given  him.  He  feels  the  good  mud  with  his  bare 
toes.  Anon  comes  another,  saying  he  will  put 
onions,  and  carrots,  and  sugar-cane  in  such  and 
such  places.  They  meet  as  boats  adrift  meet, 
and  each  rolls  his  eye  at  the  other  under  the  big 
blue  turban.  The  old  Mugger  sees  and  hears. 
Each  calls  the  other  '  Brother,'  and  they  go  to 
mark  out  the  boundaries  of  the  new  land.  The 
Mugger  hurries  with  them  from  point  to  point, 
shuffling  very  low  through  the  mud.  Now  they 
begin  to  quarrel  !  Now  they  say  hot  words ! 
Now  they  pull  turbans !  Now  they  lift  up  their 
lathis  (clubs),  and,  at  last,  one  falls  backward  into 
the  mud,  and  the  other  runs  away.  When  he 
comes  back  the  dispute  is  settled,  as  the  iron- 
bound  bamboo  of  the  loser  witnesses.  Yet  they 
are  not  grateful  to  the  Mugger.     No,  they  cry 


THE   UNDERTAKERS  133 

'  Murder ! '  and  their  families  fight  with  sticks, 
twenty  a  side.  My  people  are  good  people — 
upland  Jats  —  Malwais  of  the  Bet.  They  do  not 
give  blows  for  sport,  and,  when  the  fight  is  done, 
the  old  Mugger  waits  far  down  the  river,  out  of 
sight  of  the  village,  behind  the  kikar-scvuh  yon- 
der. Then  come  they  down,  my  broad-shouldered 
Jats — eight  or  nine  together  under  the  stars, 
bearing  the  dead  man  upon  a  bed.  They  are  old 
men  with  gray  beards,  and  voices  as  deep  as  mine. 
They  light  a  little  fire — ah  !  how  well  I  know 
that  fire  ! — and  they  drink  tobacco,  and  they  nod 
their  heads  together  forward  in  a  ring,  or  side- 
ways toward  the  dead  man  upon  the  bank.  They 
say  the  English  Law  will  come  with  a  rope  for 
this  matter,  and  that  such  a  man's  family  will  be 
ashamed,  because  such  a  man  must  be  hanged  in 
the  great  square  of  the  Jail.  Then  say  the  friends 
of  the  dead,  '  Let  him  hang ! '  and  the  talk  is  all 
to  do  over  again — once,  twice,  twenty  times  in 
the  long  night.  Then  says  one,  at  last,  '  The 
fight  was  a  fair  fight.  Let  us  take  blood-money, 
a  little  more  than  is  offered  by  the  slayer,  and 
we  will  say  no  more  about  it.'  Then  do  they 
haggle  over  the  blood- money,  for  the  dead  was  a 
strong  man,  leaving  many  sons.  Yet  before  am- 
ratvela  (sunrise)  they  put  the  fire  to  him  a  little, 


134  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

as  the  custom  is,  and  the  dead  man  comes  to  me, 
and  he  says  no  more  about  it.  Aha !  my  children, 
the  Mugger  knows — the  Mugger  knows — and 
my  Malwah  Jats  are  a  good  people  !  " 

"They  are  too  close — too  narrow  in  the  hand 
for  my  crop,"  croaked  the  Adjutant.  "They 
waste  not  the  polish  on  the  cow's  horn,  as  the 
saying  is ;  and,  again,  who  can  glean  after  a 
Malwai  ? " 

"Ah,  I — glean — them"  said  the  Mugger. 

"  Now,  in  Calcutta  of  the  South,  in  the  old 
days,"  the  Adjutant  went  on,  "  everything  was 
thrown  into  the  streets,  and  we  picked  and  chose. 
Those  were  dainty  seasons.  But  to-day  they 
keep  their  streets  as  clean  as  the  outside  of  an 
egg,  and  my  people  fly  away-  To  be  clean  is 
one  thing ;  to  dust,  sweep,  and  sprinkle  seven 
times  a  day  wearies  the  very  Gods  themselves." 

"There  was  a  down-country  jackal  had  it  from 
a  brother,  who  told  me,  that  in  Calcutta  of  the 
South  all  the  jackals  were  as  fat  as  otters  in 
the  Rains,"  said  the  Jackal,  his  mouth  watering  at 
the  bare  thought  of  it. 

"  Ah,  but  the  white-faces  are  there — the  Eng- 
lish, and  they  bring  dogs  from  somewhere  down 
the  river,  in  boats — big  fat  dogs — to  keep  those 
same  jackals  lean,"  said  the  Adjutant. 


THE   UNDERTAKERS  135 

"  They  are,  then,  as  hard-hearted  as  these  peo- 
ple ?  I  might  have  known.  Neither  earth,  sky, 
nor  water  shows  charity  to  a  jackal.  I  saw  the 
tents  of  a  white-face  last  season,  after  the  Rains, 
and  I  also  took  a  new  yellow  bridle  to  eat.  The 
white-faces  do  not  dress  their  leather  in  the  pro- 
per way.      It  made  me  very  sick." 

"That  was  better  than  my  case,"  said  the  Ad- 
jutant. "  When  I  was  in  my  third  season,  a 
young  and  a  bold  bird,  I  went  down  to  the  river 
where  the  big  boats  come  in.  The  boats  of  the 
English  are  thrice  as  big  as  this  village." 

"  He  has  been  as  far  as  Delhi,  and  says  all  the 
people  there  walk  on  their  heads,"  muttered  the 
Jackal.  The  Mugger  opened  his  left  eye,  and 
looked  keenly  at  the  Adjutant. 

"It  is  true,"  the  big  bird  insisted.  "A  liar 
only  lies  when  he  hopes  to  be  believed.  No  one 
who  had  not  seen  those  boats  could  believe  this 
truth." 

"  That  is  more  reasonable,"  said  the  Mugger. 
"And  then?" 

"  From  the  insides  of  this  boat  they  were  taking 
out  great  pieces  of  white  stuff,  which,  in  a  little 
while,  turned  to  water.  Much  split  off,  and  fell 
about  on  the  shore,  and  the  rest  they  swiftly  put 
into  a  house  with  thick  walls.     But  a  boatman, 


136  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

who  laughed,  took  a  piece  no  larger  than  a  small 
dog,  and  threw  it  to  me.  I  —  all  my  people — 
swallow  without  reflection,  and  that  piece  I  swal- 
lowed as  is  our  custom.  Immediately  I  was  af- 
flicted with  an  excessive  cold  which,  beginning  in 
my  crop,  ran  down  to  the  extreme  end  of  my  toes, 
and  deprived  me  even  of  speech,  while  the  boat- 
men laughed  at  me.  Never  have  I  felt  such  cold. 
I  danced  in  my  grief  and  amazement  till  I  could 
recover  my  breath,  and  then  I  danced  and  cried 
out  against  the  falseness  of  this  world ;  and  the 
boatmen  derided  me  till  they  fell  down.  The 
chief  wonder  of  the  matter,  setting  aside  that 
marvelous  coldness,  was  that  there  was  nothing 
at  all  in  my  crop  when  I  had  finished  my  lament- 
ings  ! 

The  Adjutant  had  done  his  very  best  to  de- 
scribe his  feelings  after  swallowing  a  seven-pound 
lump  of  Wenham  Lake  ice,  off  an  American  ice- 
ship,  in  the  days  before  Calcutta  made  her  ice  by 
machinery;  but  as  he  did  not  know  what  ice  was, 
and  as  the  Mugger  and  the  Jackal  knew  rather 
less,  the  tale  missed  fire. 

"  Anything,"  said  the  Mugger,  shutting  his  left 
eye  again  —  "  anything  is  possible  that  comes  out 
of  a  boat  thrice  the  size  of  Mugger-Ghaut.  My 
village  is  not  a  small  one." 


THE    UNDERTAKERS  137 

There  was  a  whistle  overhead  on  the  bridge, 
and  the  Delhi  Mail  slid  across,  all  the  carriages 
gleaming  with  light,  and  the  shadows  faithfully 
following  along  the  river.  It  clanked  away  into 
the  dark  again  ;  but  the  Mugger  and  the  Jackal 
were  so  well  used  to  it  that  they  never  turned 
their  heads. 

"  Is  that  anything  less  wonderful  than  a  boat 
thrice  the  size  of  Mugger- Ghaut  ?  "  said  the  bird, 
looking  up. 

"  I  saw  that  built,  child.  Stone  by  stone  I  saw 
the  bridge-piers  rise,  and  when  the  men  fell  off 
(they  were  wondrous  sure-footed  for  the  most 
part  —  but  when  they  fell)  I  was  ready.  After 
the  first  pier  was  made  they  never  thought  to  look 
down  the  stream  for  the  body  to  burn.  There, 
again,  I  saved  much  trouble.  There  was  nothing 
strange  in  the  building  of  the  bridge,"  said  the 
Mugger. 

"  But  that  which  goes  across,  pulling  the  roofed 
carts!     That  is  strange,"  the  Adjutant  repeated. 

"  It  is,  past  any  doubt,  a  new  breed  of  bullock. 
Some  day  it  will  not  be  able  to  keep  its  foothold 
up  yonder,  and  will  fall  as  the  men  did.  The  old 
Mugger  will  then  be  ready." 

The  Jackal  looked  at  the  Adjutant,  and  the 
Adjutant  looked  at  the  Jackal.      If  there  was~one 


138  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

thing  they  were  more  certain  of  than  another,  it 
was  that  the  engine  was  everything  in  the  wide 
world  except  a  bullock.  The  Jackal  had  watched 
it  time  and  again  from  the  aloe- hedges  by  the  side 
of  the  line,  and  the  Adjutant  had  seen  engines 
since  the  first  locomotive  ran  in  India.  But  the 
Mugger  had  only  looked  up  at  the  thing  from 
below,  where  the  brass  dome  seemed  rather  like 
a  bullock's  hump. 

"  M — yes,  a  new  kind  of  bullock,"  the  Mugger 
repeated  ponderously,  to  make  himself  quite  sure 
in  his  own  mind  ;  and  "  Certainly  it  is  a  bullock," 
said  the  Jackal. 

"  And  again  it  might  be — "  began  the  Mugger 
pettishly. 

"Certainly — most  certainly,"  said  the  Jackal, 
without  waiting  for  the  other  to  finish. 

"What?"  said  the  Mua-aer  an  aril  v,  for  he 
could  feel  that  the  others  knew  more  than  he 
did.  "  What  might  it  be  ?  I  never  finished  my 
words.     You  said  it  was  a  bullock." 

"  It  is  anything  the  Protector  of  the  Poor 
pleases.  I  am  his  servant —  not  the  servant  of 
the  thing  that  crosses  the  river." 

"  Whatever  it  is,  it  is  white-face  work,"  said 
the  Adjutant;  "and  for  my  own  part,  I  would 
not  lie  out  upon  a  place  so  near  to  it  as  this  bar." 

"You  do  not  know  the  Enalish  as  I  do,"  said 


THE   UNDERTAKERS  139 

the  Mugger.  "  There  was  a  white-face  here  when 
the  bridge  was  built,  and  he  would  take  a  boat  in 
the  evenings  and  shuffle  with  his  feet  on  the  bot- 
tom-boards, and  whisper  :  '  Is  he  here  ?  Is  he 
there  ?  Bring  me  my  gun.'  I  could  hear  him  be- 
fore I  could  see  him — each  sound  that  he  made 
—  creaking  and  puffing  and  rattling  his  gun,  up 
and  down  the  river.  As  surely  as  I  had  picked 
up  one  of  his  workmen,  and  thus  saved  great  ex- 
pense in  wood  for  the  burning,  so  surely  would 
he  come  down  to  the  Ghaut,  and  shout  in  a  loud 
voice  that  he  would  hunt  me,  and  rid  the  river  of 
me — the  Mugger  of  Mugger-Ghaut !  Me  !  Chil- 
dren, I  have  swum  under  the  bottom  of  his  boat 
for  hour  after  hour,  and  heard  him  fire  his  gun  at 
logs ;  and  when  I  was  well  sure  he  was  wearied, 
I  have  risen  by  his  side  and  snapped  my  jaws  in 
his  face.  When  the  bridge  was  finished  he  went 
away.  All  the  English  hunt  in  that  fashion,  ex- 
cept when  they  are  hunted." 

"Who  hunts  the  white-faces?"  yapped  the 
Jackal  excitedly. 

"  No  one  now,  but  I  have  hunted  them  in  my 
time." 

"  I  remember  a  little  of  that  Hunting.  I  was 
young  then,"  said  the  Adjutant,  clattering  his  beak 
significantly. 

"  I  was  well  established  here.     My  village  was 


140  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

being  builded  for  the  third  time,  as  I  remember, 
when  my  cousin,  the  Gavial,  brought  me  word  of 
rich  waters  above  Benares.  At  first  I  would  not 
go,  for  my  cousin,  who  is  a  fish-eater,  does  not 
always  know  the  good  from  the  bad  ;  but  I  heard 
my  people  talking  in  the  evenings,  and  what  they 
said  made  me  certain." 

"  And  what  did  they  say?  "  the  Jackal  asked. 

"  They  said  enough  to  make  me,  the  Mugger 
of  Mugger- Ghaut,  leave  water  and  take  to  my 
feet.  I  went  by  night,  using  the  littlest  streams 
as  they  served  me ;  but  it  was  the  beginning  of 
the  hot  weather  and  all  streams  were  low.  I 
crossed  dusty  roads ;  I  went  through  tall  grass ; 
I  climbed  hills  in  the  moonlight.  Even  rocks  did 
I  climb,  children — consider  this  well.  I  crossed 
the  tail  of  Sirhind,  the  waterless,  before  I  could 
find  the  set  of  the  little  rivers  that  flow  Gunga- 
ward.  I  was  a  month's  journey  from  my  own 
people  and  the  river  that  I  knew.  That  was  very 
marvelous ! " 

"What  food  on  the  way?"  said  the  Jackal, 
who  kept  his  soul  in  his  little  stomach,  and  was 
not  a  bit  impressed  by  the  Mugger's  land  travels. 

"That  which  I  could  find  —  cousin"  said  the 
Mugger  slowly,  dragging  each  word. 

Now  you  do  not  call  a  man  a  cousin  in  Indi;; 


THE   UNDERTAKERS  141 

unless  you  think  you  can  establish  some  kind  of 
blood-relationship,  and  as  it  is  only  in  old  fairy- 
tales that  the  Mugger  ever  marries  a  jackal,  the 
Jackal  knew  for  what  reason  he  had  been  sud- 
denly lifted  into  the  Mugger's  family  circle.  If 
they  had  been  alone  he  would  not  have  cared, 
but  the  Adjutant's  eyes  twinkled  with  mirth  at 
the  ugly  jest. 

"  Assuredly,  Father,  I  might  have  known,"  said 
the  Jackal.  A  Mugger  does  not  care  to  be  called 
a  father  of  jackals,  and  the  Mugger  of  Mugger- 
Ghaut  said  as  much  —  and  a  great  deal  more 
which  there  is  no  use  in  repeating  here. 

"The  Protector  of  the  Poor  has  claimed  kin- 
ship. How  can  I  remember  the  precise  degree  ? 
Moreover,  we  eat  the-  same  food.  He  has  said 
it,"  was  the  Jackal's  reply. 

That  made  matters  rather  worse,  for  what  the 
Jackal  hinted  at  was  that  the  Mugger  must  have 
eaten  his  food  on  that  land  march  fresh  and 
fresh  every  day,  instead  of  keeping  it  by  him  till 
it  was  in  a  fit  and  proper  condition,  as  every 
self-respecting  mugger  and  most  wild  beasts  do 
when  they  can.  Indeed,  one  of  the  worst  terms 
of  contempt  along  the  River-bed  is  "  eater  of 
fresh  meat."  It  is  nearly  as  bad  as  calling  a  man 
a  cannibal. 


142  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

"That  food  was  eaten  thirty  seasons  ago," 
said  the  Adjutant  quietly.  "  If  we  talk  for  thirty 
seasons  more  it  will  never  come  back.  Tell  us, 
now,  what  happened  when  the  good  waters  were 
reached  after  thy  most  wonderful  land  journey. 
If  we  listened  to  the  howling  of  every  jackal  the 
business  of  the  town  would  stop,  as  the  saying  is." 

The  Mugger  must  have  been  grateful  for  the 
interruption,  because  he  went  on,  with  a  rush  : 

"  By  the  Right  and  Left  of  Gunga  !  when  I 
came  there  never  did  I  see  such  waters  !  " 

"  Were  they  better,  then,  than  the  big  flood  of 
last  season  ?  "  said  the  Jackal. 

"  Better  !  That  flood  was  no  more  than  comes 
every  five  years  —  a  handful  of  drowned  strangers, 
some  chickens,  and  a  dead  bullock  in  muddy 
water  with  cross-currents.  But  the  season  I 
think  of,  the  river  was  low,  smooth,  and  even, 
and,  as  the  Gavial  had  warned  me,  the  dead  En^- 
lish  came  down,  touching  each  other.  I  got  my 
girth  in  that  season  —  my  girth  and  my  depth. 
From  Agra,  by  Etawah  and  the  broad  waters  by 
Allahabad—" 

"  Oh,  the  eddy  that  set  under  the  walls  of  the 
fort  at  Allahabad  !  "  said  the  Adjutant.  "  They 
came  in  there  like  widgeon  to  the  reeds,  and 
round  and  round  they  swung  —  thus  !  " 


THE   UNDERTAKERS  143 

He  went  off  into  his  horrible  dance  again, 
while  the  Jackal  looked  on  enviously.  He  natu- 
rally could  not  remember  the  terrible  year  of  the 
Mutiny  they  were  talking  about.  The  Mugger 
continued : 

"Yes,  by  Allahabad  one  lay  still  in  the  slack- 
water  and  let  twenty  go  by  to  pick  one ;  and, 
above  all,  the  English  were  not  cumbered  with 
jewelry  and  nose-rings  and  anklets  as  my  women 
are  nowadays.  To  delight  in  ornaments  is  to 
end  with  a  rope  for  necklace,  as  the  saying  is. 
All  the  muggers  of  all  the  rivers  grew  fat  then, 
but  it  was  my  Fate  to  be  fatter  than  them  all. 
The  news  was  that  the  English  were  being 
hunted  into  the  rivers,  and  by  the  Right  and  Left 
of  Gunga !  we  believed  it  was  true.  So  far  as  I 
went  south  I  believed  it  to  be  true ;  and  I  went 
down-stream  beyond  Monghyr  and  the  tombs 
that  look  over  the  river." 

"  I  know  that  place,"  said  the  Adjutant.  "Since 
those  days  Monghyr  is  a  lost  city.  Very  few  live 
there  now." 

"Thereafter  I  worked  up-stream  very  slowly 
and  lazily,  and  a  little  above  Monghyr  there  came 
down  a  boatful  of  white-faces  —  alive!  They 
were,  as  I  remember,  women,  lying  under  a  cloth 
spread  over  sticks,  and  crying  aloud.     There  was 


144  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

never  a  gun  fired  at  us  the  watchers  of  the  fords 
in  those  days.  All  the  guns  were  busy  elsewhere. 
We  could  hear  them  day  and  night  inland,  com- 
ing and  going  as  the  wind  shifted.  I  rose  up 
full  before  the  boat,  because  I  had  never  seen 
white-faces  alive,  though  I  knew  them  well  — 
otherwise.  A  naked  white  child  kneeled  by  the 
side  of  the  boat,  and,  stooping  over,  must  needs 
try  to  trail  his  hands  in  the  river.  It  is  a  pretty 
thine  to  see  how  a  child  loves  running  water. 
I  had  fed  that  day,  but  there  was  yet  a  little 
unfilled  space  within  me.  Still,  it  was  for  sport 
and  not  for  food  that  I  rose  at  the  child's  hands. 
They  were  so  clear  a  mark  that  I  did  not  even 
look  when  I  closed ;  but  they  were  so  small  that 
though  my  jaws  rang  true  —  I  am  sure  of  that  — 
the  child  drew  them  up  swiftly,  unhurt.  They 
must  have  passed  between  tooth  and  tooth  — 
those  small  white  hands.  I  should  have  caught 
him  crosswise  at  the  elbows  ;  but,  as  I  said,  it 
was  only  for  sport  and  desire  to  see  new  things 
that  I  rose  at  all.  They  cried  out  one  after  an- 
other in  the  boat,  and  presently  I  rose  again  to 
watch  them.  Their  boat  was  too  heavy  to  push 
over.  They  were  only  women,  but  he  who  trusts 
a  woman  will  walk  on  duckweed  in  a  pool,  as  the 
saying  is :  and  by  the  Right  and  Left  of  Gunga, 
that  is  truth  !  " 


THE   UNDERTAKERS  145 

"  Once  a  woman  gave  me  some  dried  skin  from 
a  fish,"  said  the  Jackal.  "  I  had  hoped  to  get  her 
baby,  but  horse-food  is  better  than  the  kick  of  a 
horse,  as  the  saying  is.  What  did  thy  woman 
do?" 

"  She  fired  at  me  with  a  short  gun  of  a  kind  I 
have  never  seen  before  or  since.  Five  times,  one 
after  another"  (the  Mugger  must  have  met  with 
an  old-fashioned  revolver)  ;  "and  I  stayed  open- 
mouthed  and  gaping,  my  head  in  the  smoke. 
Never  did  I  see  such  a  thing.  Five  times,  as 
swiftly  as   I   wave  my  tail  —  thus  !  " 

The  Jackal,  who  had  been  growing  more  and 
more  interested  in  the  story,  had  just  time  to  leap 
back  as  the  long  tail  swung  by  like  a  scythe. 

"  Not  before  the  fifth  shot,"  said  the  Mugger, 
as  though  he  had  never  dreamed  of  stunning  one 
of  his  listeners  —  "not  before  the  fifth  shot  did  I 
sink,  and  I  rose  in  time  to  hear  a  boatman  telling 
all  those  white  women  that  I  was  most  certainly 
dead.  One  bullet  had  gone  under  a  neckplate 
of  mine.  I  know  not  if  it  is  there  still,  for  the 
reason  I  cannot  turn  my  head.  Look  and  see, 
child.      It  will  show  that  my  tale  is  true." 

"  I  ?"  said  the  Jackal.  "Shall  an  eater  of  old 
shoes,  a  bone-cracker,  presume  to  doubt  the  word 
of  the  Envy  of  the  River  ?     May  my  tail  be  bit- 


H6  the  second  jungle  book 

ten  off  by  blind  puppies  if  the  shadow  of  such 
a  thought  has  crossed  my  humble  mind.  The 
Protector  of  the  Poor  has  condescended  to  inform 
me,  his  slave,  that  once  in  his  life  he  has  been 
wounded  by  a  woman.  That  is  sufficient,  and  I 
will  tell  the  tale  to  all  my  children,  asking  for  no 
prooi. 

"  Over-much  civility  is  sometimes  no  better 
than  over-much  discourtesy,  for,  as  the  saying  is, 
one  can  choke  a  guest  with  curds.  I  do  not  de- 
sire that  any  children  of  thine  should  know  that 
the  Mugger  of  Mugger- Ghaut  took  his  only 
wound  from  a  woman.  They  will  have  much 
else  to  think  of  if  they  get  their  meat  as  miser- 
ably as  does  their  father." 

"  It  is  forgotten  long  ago  !  It  was  never  said  ! 
There  never  was  a  white  woman  !  There  was  no 
boat!     Nothing  whatever  happened  at  all." 

The  Jackal  waved  his  brush  to  show  how  com- 
pletely everything  was  wiped  out  of  his  memory, 
and  sat  down  with  an  air. 

"  Indeed,  very  many  things  happened,"  said  the 
Mugger,  beaten  in  his  second  attempt  that  night 
to  get  the  better  of  his  friend.  (Neither  bore 
malice,  however.  Eat  and  be  eaten  was  fair  law 
along  the  river,  and  the  Jackal  came  in  for  his 
share  of  plunder  when  the  Mugger  had  finished 


THE   UNDERTAKERS  147 

a  meal.)  "  I  left  that  boat  and  went  up-stream, 
and,  when  I  had  reached  Arrah  and  the  back- 
waters behind  it,  there  were  no  more  dead  Eng- 
lish. The  river  was  empty  for  a  while.  Then 
came  one  or  two  dead,  in  red  coats,  not  English, 
but  of  one  kind  all — Hindus  and  Purbeeahs  — 
then  five  and  six  abreast,  and  at  last,  from  Arrah 
to  the  North  beyond  Agra,  it  was  as  though 
whole  villages  had  walked  into  the  water.  They 
came  out  of  little  creeks  one  after  another,  as  the 
logs  come  down  in  the  Rains.  When  the  river 
rose  they  rose  also  in  companies  from  the  shoals 
they  had  rested  upon ;  and  the  falling  flood 
draofaed  them  with  it  across  the  fields  and  through 
the  jungle  by  the  long  hair.  All  night,  too, 
going  North,  I  heard  the  guns,  and  by  day  the 
shod  feet  of  men  crossing  fords,  and  that  noise 
which  a  heavy  cart-wheel  makes  on  sand  under 
water  ;  and  every  ripple  brought  more  dead.  At 
last  even  I  was  afraid,  for  I  said :  '  If  this  thing 
happen  to  men  how  shall  the  Mugger  of  Mugger- 
Ghaut  escape?'  There  were  boats,  too,  that 
came  up  behind  me  without  sails,  burning  con- 
tinually, as  the  cotton-boats  sometimes  burn,  but 
never  sinking." 

"  Ah  !  "  said  the  Adjutant.      "  Boats  like  those 
come  to  Calcutta  of  the   South.     Thev  are  tall 


148  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

and  black,  they  beat  up  the  water  behind  them 
with  a  tail,  and  they — " 

"Are  thrice  as  big  as  my  village.  My  boats 
were  low  and  white ;  they  beat  up  the  water  on 
either  side  of  them,  and  were  no  larger  than 
the  boats  of  one  who  speaks  truth  should  be. 
They  made  me  very  afraid,  and  I  left  water  and 
went  back  to  this  my  river,  hiding  by  day  and 
walking  by  night,  when  I  could  not  find  little 
streams  to  help  me.  I  came  to  my  village  again, 
but  I  did  not  hope  to  see  any  of  my  people  there. 
Yet  they  were  plowing  and  sowing  and  reaping, 
and  going  to  and  fro  in  their  fields,  as  quietly  as 
their  own  cattle." 

"Was  there  still  good  food  in  the  river?  "  said 
the  Jackal. 

"  More  than  I  had  any  desire  for.  Even  I  — 
and  I  do  not  eat  mud — even  I  was  tired,  and,  as 
I  remember,  a  little  frightened  of  this  constant 
coming  down  of  the  silent  ones.  I  heard  my 
people  say  in  my  village  that  all  the  English 
were  dead  ;  but  those  that  came,  face -down,  with 
the  current  were  not  English,  as  my  people  saw. 
Then  my  people  said  that  it  was  best  to  say  noth- 
ing at  all,  but  to  pay  the  tax  and  plow  the  land. 
After  a  long  time  the  river  cleared,  and  those 
that  came  down  it  had  been  clearly  drowned  by 


THE   UNDERTAKERS  149 

the  floods,  as  I  could  well  see ;  and,  though  it 
was  not  so  easy  then  to  get  food,  I  was  heartily 
glad  of  it.  A  little  killing  here  and  there  is  no 
bad  thing  —  but  even  the  Mugger  is  sometimes 
satisfied,  as  the  saying  is." 

"  Marvelous  !  Most  truly  marvelous  !  "  said 
the  Jackal.  "  I  am  become  fat  through  merely 
hearing-  about  so  much  g-ood  eating.  And  after- 
ward  what,  if  it  be  permitted  to  ask,  did  the  Pro- 
tector of  the  Poor  do  ?  " 

"  I  said  to  myself — and  by  the  Right  and  Left 
of  Gunga!  I  locked  my  jaws  on  that  vow — I  said 
I  would  never  go  roving  any  more.  So  I  lived 
by  the  Ghaut,  very  close  to  my  own  people,  and 
I  watched  over  them  year  after  year ;  and  they 
loved  me  so  much  that  they  threw  marigold 
wreaths  at  my  head  whenever  they  saw  it  lift. 
Yes,  and  my  Fate  has  been  very  kind  to  me,  and 
the  river  is  good  enough  to  respect  my  poor  and 
infirm  presence  ;   only  — " 

"  No  one  is  all  happy  from  his  beak  to  his  tail," 
said  the  Adjutant  sympathetically.  "  What  does 
the  Mugger  of  Mugger-Ghaut  need  more?  " 

"  That  little  white  child  which  I  did  not  get," 
said  the  Mugger,  with  a  deep  sigh.  "  He  was 
very  small,  but  I  have  not  forgotten.  I  am  old 
now,  but  before  I  die  it  is  my  desire  to  try  one 


ISO  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

new  thing.  It  is  true  they  are  a  heavy-footed, 
noisy,  and  foolish  people,  and  the  sport  would  be 
small,  but  I  remember  the  old  days  above  Benares, 
and,  if  the  child  lives,  he  will  remember  still.  It 
may  be  he  goes  up  and  down  the  bank  of  some 
river,  telling  how  he  once  passed  his  hands  be- 
tween the  teeth  of  the  Mugger  of  Mugger- Ghaut, 
and  lived  to  make  a  tale  of  it.  My  Fate  has  been 
very  kind,  but  that  plagues  me  sometimes  in  my 
dreams — the  thought  of  the  little  white  child  in 
the  bows  of  that  boat."  He  yawned,  and  closed 
his  jaws.  "And  now  I  will  rest  and  think.  Keep 
silent,  my  children,  and  respect  the  aged." 

He  turned  stiffly,  and  shuffled  to  the  top  of  the 
sand-bar,  while  the  Jackal  drew  back  with  the 
Adjutant  to  the  shelter  of  a  tree  stranded  on 
the  end  nearest  the  railway  bridge. 

"  That  was  a  pleasant  and  profitable  life,"  he 
grinned,  looking  up  inquiringly  at  the  bird  who 
towered  above  him.  "And  not  once,  mark  you, 
did  he  think  fit  to  tell  me  where  a  morsel  mio-ht 
have  been  left  along  the  banks.  Yet  I  have  told 
Aim  a  hundred  times  of  good  things  wallowing 
down-stream.  How  true  is  the  saying,  '  All  the 
world  forgets  the  Jackal  and  the  Barber  when  the 
news  has  been  told  ! '  Now  he  is  going  to  sleep  ! 
A  rrh  !  " 


THE   UNDERTAKERS  151 

"  How  can  a  Jackal  hunt  with  a  Mugger  ? " 
said  the  Adjutant  coolly.  "  Big  thief  and 
little  thief;  it  is  easy  to  say  who  gets  the  pick- 
ings." 

The  Jackal  turned,  whining  impatiently,  and 
was  going  to  curl  himself  up  under  the  tree-trunk, 
when  suddenly  he  cowered,  and  looked  up  through 
the  draggled  branches  at  the  bridge  almost  above 
his  head. 

"  What  now  ?  "  said  the  Adjutant,  opening  his 
wings  uneasily. 

"  Wait  till  we  see.  The  wind  blows  from  us  to 
them,  but  they  are  not  looking  for  us  —  those  two 
men." 

"  Men,  is  it  ?  My  office  protects  me.  All  In- 
dia knows  I  am  holy."  The  Adjutant,  being  a 
first-class  scavenger,  is  allowed  to  go  where  he 
pleases,  and  so  this  one  never  flinched. 

"  I  am  not  worth  a  blow  from  anything  greater 
than  an  old  shoe,"  said  the  Jackal,  and  listened 
again.  "  Hark  to  that  footfall !  "  he  went  on. 
"  That  was  no  country  leather,  but  the  shod  foot 
of  a  white-face.  Listen  again  !  Iron  hits  iron 
up  there !  It  is  a  gun  !  Friend,  those  heavy- 
footed,  foolish  English  are  coming  to  speak  with 
the  Mugger." 

"  Warn  him,  then.     He  was  called   Protector 


152  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

of  the  Poor  by  some  one  not  unlike  a  starving 
Jackal  but  a  little  time  ago." 

"  Let  my  cousin  protect  his  own  hide.  He  has 
told  me  again  and  again  there  is  nothing  to  fear 
from  the  white-faces.  They  must  be  white-faces. 
Not  a  villager  of  Muster- Ghaut  would  dare  to 
come  after  him.  See,  I  said  it  was  a  gun  !  Now, 
with  good  luck,  we  shall  feed  before  daylight. 
He  cannot  hear  well  out  of  water,  and  — this  time 
it  is  not  a  woman!  " 

A  shiny  barrel  glittered  for  a  minute  in  the 
moonlight  on  the  girders.  The  Mugger  was  ly- 
ing on  the  sand-bar  as  still  as  his  own  shadow, 
his  fore  feet  spread  out  a  little,  his  head  dropped 
between  them,  snoring  like  a  —  mugger. 

A  voice  on  the  bridge  whispered  :  "  It 's  an  odd 
shot — straight  down  almost — but  as  safe  as 
houses.  Better  try  behind  the  neck.  Golly!  what 
a  brute  !  The  villagers  will  be  wild  if  he  's  shot, 
though.   He  's  thedeota  (godling)  of  these  parts." 

"Don't  care  a  rap,"  another  voice  answered; 
"  he  took  about  fifteen  of  my  best  coolies  while 
the  bridge  was  building,  and  it  's  time  he  was  put 
a  stop  to.  I  've  been  after  him  in  a  boat  for  weeks. 
Stand  by  with  the  Martini  as  soon  as  I  've  given 
him  both  barrels  of  this." 

"  Mind  the  kick,  then.  A  double  four-bore  's 
no  joke." 


THE   UNDERTAKERS  153 

"  That  's  for  him  to  decide.      Here  goes  !  " 

There  was  a  roar  like  the  sound  of  a  small  can- 
non (the  biggest  sort  of  elephant-rifle  is  not  very 
different  from  some  artillery),  and  a  double  streak 
of  flame,  followed  by  the  stinging  crack  of  a  Mar- 
tini, whose  long  bullet  makes  nothing  of  a  croco- 
dile's plates.  But  the  explosive  bullets  did  the 
work.  One  of  them  struck  just  behind  the  Mug- 
ger's neck,  a  hand's  breadth  to  the  left  of  the  back- 
bone, while  the  other  burst  a  little  lower  down, 
at  the  beginning  of  the  tail.  In  ninety-nine  cases 
out  of  a  hundred  a  mortally  wounded  crocodile 
can  scramble  to  deep  water  and  get  away ; 
but  the  Mugger  of  Mugger- Ghaut  was  literally 
broken  into  three  pieces.  He  hardly  moved  his 
head  before  the  life  went  out  of  him,  and  he  lay 
as  flat  as  the  Jackal. 

"  Thunder  and  lightning  !  Lightning  and  thun- 
der !  "  said  that  miserable  little  beast.  "Has  the 
thing  that  pulls  the  covered  carts  over  the  bridge 
tumbled  at  last  ?  " 

"  It  is  no  more  than  a  gun,"  said  the  Adjutant, 
though  his  very  tail-feathers  quivered.  "  Nothing 
more  than  a  gun.  He  is  certainly  dead.  Here 
come  the  white-faces." 

The  two  Englishmen  had  hurried  down  from 
the  bridge  and  across  to  the  sand-bar,  where  they 


154 


THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 


stood  admiring  the  length  of  the  Mugger.  Then 
a  native  with  an  axe  cut  off  the  big  head,  and 
four  men  dragged  it  across  the  spit. 

"  The  last  time  that  I  had  my  hand  in  a  Mug- 
ger's mouth,"  said  one  of  the  Englishmen,  stoop- 
ing down  (he  was  the  man  who  had  built  the 
bridge),  "  it  was  when  I  was  about  five  years  old 
—  coming  down  the  river  by  boat  to  Monghyr.  I 
was  a  Mutiny  baby,  as  they  call  it.  Poor  mother 
was  in  the  boat,  too,  and  she  often  told  me  how 
she  fired  dad's  old  pistol  at  the  beast's  head." 

"  Well,  you  've  certainly  had  your  revenge  on 
the  chief  of  the  clan — even  if  the  gun  has  made 
your  nose  bleed.  Hi,  you  boatman  !  Haul  that 
head  up  the  bank,  and  we  '11  boil  it  for  the  skull. 
The  skin  's  too  knocked  about  to  keep.  Come 
along  to  bed  now.  This  was  worth  sitting  up  all 
night  for,  was  n't  it  ?  " 

Curiously  enough,  the  Jackal  and  the  Adjutant 
made  the  very  same  remark  not  three  minutes 
after  the  men  had  left. 


psr- 


Z — "I 


A   RIPPLE    SONG 


NCE  a  ripple  came  to  land 

In  the  golden  sunset  burning — 
Lapped  against  a  maiden's  hand, 
By  the  ford  returning. 


Dainty  foot  and  gentle  breast  — 
Here,  across,  be  glad  and  rest. 
"  Maiden,  wait"  the  ripple  saith; 
"  Wait      awhile,     for      I     am 
Death/" 


"Where  my  lover  calls  I  go  — 
Shame  it  were  to  treat  him  coldly  - 

'T  was  a  fish  that  circled  so, 
Turning  over  boldly." 


Dainty  foot  and  tender  heart, 
Wait  the  loaded  ferry -cart. 
"  Wait,  ah,  wait  I  "  the  ripple  saith  ; 
"  Maiden,  wait,  for  I  am  Death  !  " 


156  THE   SECOND    JUNGLE   BOOK 

"  When  my  lover  calls  I  haste  — 
Dame  Disdain  was  never  wedded  !  " 

Ripple-ripple  round  her  waist, 
Clear  the  current  eddied. 


Foolish  heart  and  faithful  hand, 
Little  feet  that  touched  no  land. 
Far  away  the  ripple  sped, 
Ripple  —  ripple  —  running  red  / 


THE    KING'S   ANKUS 


These  are  the  Four  that  are  never  content,  that  have  never  been 

filled  since  the  Dews  began  — 
Jacala's  mouth,  and  the  glut  of  the  Kite,  and  the  hands  of  the 

Ape,  and  the  Eyes  of  Man. 

—Jungle  Saying. 


THE   KING'S   ANKUS 


AA,  the  big  Rock  Python, 
had  changed  his  skin  for 
perhaps  the  two  hundredth 
time  since  his  birth  ;  and 
Mowgli,  who  never  forgot 
that  he  owed  his  life  to 
Kaa  for  a  night's  work  at 
Cold  Lairs,  which  you  may 
perhaps  remember,  went  to 
congratulate  him.  Skin- 
changing  always  makes  a  snake  moody  and  de- 
pressed till  the  new  skin  begins  to  shine  and 
look  beautiful.  Kaa  never  made  fun  of  Mowgli 
any  more,  but  accepted  him,  as  the  other  Jungle 
People  did,  for  the  Master  of  the  Jungle,  and 
brought  him  all  the  news  that  a  python  of  his 


160  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

size  would  naturally  hear.  What  Kaa  did  not 
know  about  the  Middle  Jungle,  as  they  call  it, — 
the  life  that  runs  close  to  the  earth  or  under  it, 
the  boulder,  burrow,  and  the  tree-bole  life, — 
might  have  been  written  upon  the  smallest  of  his 
scales. 

That  afternoon  Mowgli  was  sitting  in  the  cir- 
cle  of  Kaa's  great  coils,  fingering  the  flaked  and 
broken  old  skin  that  lay  all  looped  and  twisted 
among  the  rocks  just  as  Kaa  had  left  it.  Kaa 
had  very  courteously  packed  himself  under  Mow- 
gli's  broad,  bare  shoulders,  so  that  the  boy  was 
really  resting  in  a  living  arm-chair. 

"  Even  to  the  scales  of  the  eyes  it  is  perfect," 
said  Mowgli,  under  his  breath,  playing  with  the 
old  skin.  "Strange  to  see  the  covering  of  one's 
own  head  at  one's  own  feet !  " 

"Aye,  but  I  lack  feet,"  said  Kaa;  "and  since 
this  is  the  custom  of  all  my  people,  I  do  not  find 
it  strange.  Does  thy  skin  never  feel  old  and 
harsh  ?  " 

"  Then  go  I  and  wash,  Flathead;  but,  it  is  true, 
in  the  great  heats  I  have  wished  I  could  slouch 
my  skin  without  pain,  and  run  skinless." 

"  I  wash,  and  also  I  take  off  my  skin.  How 
looks  the  new  coat? " 

Mowgli  ran  his  hand  down  the  diagonal  check- 


THE   KING'S   ANKUS  161 

erings  of  the  immense  back.  "  The  Turtle  is  hard- 
er-backed, but  not  so  gay."  he  said  judgmatically. 
"  The  Frog,  my  name-bearer,  is  more  gay,  but  not 
so  hard.  It  is  very  beautiful  to  see — like  the 
mottling  in  the  mouth  of  a  lily." 

"  It  needs  water.  A  new  skin  never  comes 
to  full  color  before  the  first  bath.  Let  us  go 
bathe." 

"I  will  carry  thee,"  said  Mowgli ;  and  he 
stooped  down,  laughing,  to  lift  the  middle  section 
of  Kaa's  great  body,  just  where  the  barrel  was 
thickest.  A  man  might  just  as  well  have  tried  to 
heave  up  a  two-foot  water-main  ;  and  Kaa  lay 
still,  puffing  with  quiet  amusement.  Then  the 
regular  evening  game  began — the  boy  in  the 
flush  of  his  great  strength,  and  the  Python 
in  his  sumptuous  new  skin,  standing  up  one 
against  the  other  for  a  wrestling-match  —  a  trial 
of  eye  and  strength.  Of  course,  Kaa  could  have 
crushed  a  dozen  Mowglis  if  he  had  let  himself  go  ; 
but  he  played  carefully,  and  never  loosed  one 
tenth  of  his  power.  Ever  since  Mowgli  was  strong 
enough  to  endure  a  little  rough  handling,  Kaa  had 
taught  him  this  game,  and  it  suppled  his  limbs  as 
nothing  else  could.  Sometimes  Mowgli  would 
stand  lapped  almost  to  his  throat  in  Kaa's  shift- 
ing coils,  striving  to  get  one  arm  free  and  catch 


1 62  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

him  by  the  throat.  Then  Kaa  would  give  way 
limply,  and  Mowgli,  with  both  quick-moving  feet, 
would  try  to  cramp  the  purchase  of  that  huge  tail 
as  it  flung  backward  feeling  for  a  rock  or  a  stump. 
They  would  rock  to  and  fro,  head  to  head,  each 
waiting  for  his  chance,  till  the  beautiful,  statue- 
like group  melted  in  a  whirl  of  black-and-yellow 
coils  and  struggling  legs  and  arms,  to  rise  up 
again  and  again.  "  Now  !  now  !  now  !  "  said 
Kaa,  making  feints  with  his  head  that  even  Mow- 
gli's  quick  hand  could  not  turn  aside.  "  Look !  I 
touch  thee  here,  Little  Brother  !  Here,  and  here  ! 
Are  thy  hands  numb  ?     Here  again  !  " 

The  game  always  ended  in  one  way  —  with  a 
straight,  driving  blow  of  the  head  that  knocked 
the  boy  over  and  over.  Mowgli  could  never  learn 
the  guard  for  that  lightning  lunge,  and,  as  Kaa 
said,  there  was  not  the  least  use  in  trying. 

"Good  hunting!"  Kaa  grunted  at  last ;  and 
Mowgli,  as  usual,  was  shot  away  half  a  dozen 
yards,  gasping  and  laughing.  He  rose  with  his 
fingers  full  of  grass,  and  followed  Kaa  to  the 
wise  snake's  pet  bathing-place  —  a  deep,  pitchy- 
black  pool  surrounded  with  rocks,  and  made  inter- 
esting by  sunken  tree-stumps.  The  boy  slipped 
in,  Jungle-fashion,  without  a  sound,  and  dived 
across ;   rose,  too,  without  a  sound,  and  turned  on 


THE    KING'S   ANKUS  163 

his  back,  his  arms  behind  his  head,  watching  the 
moon  rising  above  the  rocks,  and  breaking  up 
her  reflection  in  the  water  with  his  toes.  Kaa's 
diamond-shaped  head  cut  the  pool  like  a  razor, 
and  came  out  to  rest  on  Mowefli's  shoulder. 
They  lay  still,  soaking  luxuriously  in  the  cool 
water. 

"  It  is  very  good,"  said  Mowgli  at  last,  sleepily. 
"  Now,  in  the  Man- Pack,  at  this  hour,  as  I  re- 
member, they  laid  them  down  upon  hard  pieces 
of  wood  in  the  inside  of  a  mud-trap,  and,  having 
carefully  shut  out  all  the  clean  winds,  drew  foul 
cloth  over  their  heavy  heads,  and  made  evil  songs 
through  their  noses.      It  is  better  in  the  Jungle." 

A  hurrying  cobra  slipped  down  over  a  rock 
and  drank,  gave  them  "Good  hunting!"  and 
went  away. 

"  Sssh  !  "  said  Kaa,  as  though  he  had  suddenly 
remembered  something.  "  So  the  Jungle  gives 
thee  all  that  thou  hast  ever  desired,  Little  Bro- 
ther ? " 

"  Not  all,"  said  Mowgli,  laughing;  "else  there 
would  be  a  new  and  strong  Shere  Khan  to  kill 
once  a  moon.  Now,  I  could  kill  with  my  own 
hands,  asking  no  help  of  buffaloes.  And  also  I 
have  wished  the  sun  to  shine  in  the  middle  of  the 
Rains,  and  the  Rains  to  cover  the  sun  in  the  deep 


164  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

of  summer ;  and  also  I  have  never  gone  empty 
but  I  wished  that  I  had  killed  a  goat ;  and  also  I 
have  never  killed  a  goat  but  I  wished  it  had  been 
buck ;  nor  buck  but  I  wished  it  had  been  nilghai. 
But  thus  do  we  feel,  all  of  us." 

"  Thou  hast  no  other  desire  ? "  the  big  snake 
demanded. 

"What  more  can  I  wish?  I  have  the  Jungle, 
and  the  favor  of  the  Jungle  !  Is  there  more  any- 
where between  sunrise  and  sunset?  " 

"  Now,  the  Cobra  said — "  Kaa  began. 

"What  cobra?  He  that  went  away  just  now 
said  nothing.      He  was  hunting." 

"  It  was  another." 

"  Hast  thou  many  dealings  with  the  Poison 
People  ?  I  give  them  their  own  path.  They  carry 
death  in  the  fore-tooth,  and  that  is  not  good — 
for  they  are  so  small.  But  what  hood  is  this  thou 
hast  spoken  with  ?  " 

Kaa  rolled  slowly  in  the  water  like  a  steamer 
in  a  beam  sea.  "  Three  or  four  moons  since," 
said  he,  "  I  hunted  in  Cold  Lairs,  which  place 
thou  hast  not  forgotten.  And  the  thing  I  hunted 
fled  shrieking  past  the  tanks  and  to  that  house 
whose  side  I  once  broke  for  thy  sake,  and  ran  into 
the  ground." 

"  But  the  people  of  Cold  Lairs  do  not  live  in 


THE   KING'S   ANKUS  165 

burrows."  Mowgli  knew  that  Kaa  was  talking 
of  the  Monkey  People. 

"This  thing  was  not  living,  but  seeking  to 
live,"  Kaa  replied,  with  a  quiver  of  his  tongue. 
"  He  ran  into  a  burrow  that  led  very  far.  I  fol- 
lowed, and  having  killed,  I  slept.  When  I  waked 
I  went  forward." 

"  Under  the  earth  ?  " 

'•'  Even  so,  coming  at  last  upon  a  White  Hood 
[a  white  cobra],  who  spoke  of  things  beyond  my 
knowledge,  and  showed  me  many  things  I  had 
never  before  seen." 

"  New  game  ?  Was  it  good  hunting  ?  "  Mow- 
gli  turned  quickly  on  his  side. 

"It  was  no  game,  and  would  have  broken  all 
my  teeth  ;  but  the  White  Hood  said  that  a  man  — 
he  spoke  as  one  that  knew  the  breed — that  a 
man  would  give  the  breath  under  his  ribs  for 
only  the  sight  of  those  things." 

"We  will  look,"  said  Mowgli.  "I  now  re- 
member that  I  was  once  a  man." 

"  Slowly — slowly.  It  was  haste  killed  the 
Yellow  Snake  that  ate  the  sun.  We  two  spoke 
together  under  the  earth,  and  I  spoke  of  thee, 
naming  thee  as  a  man.  Said  the  White  Hood 
(and  he  is  indeed  as  old  as  the  Jungle)  :  '  It  is  long 
since  I  have  seen  a  man.     Let  him  come,  and  he 


166  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

shall  see  all  these  things,  for  the  least  of  which 
very  many  men  would  die.'  " 

"That  must  be  new  game.  And  yet  the 
Poison  People  do  not  tell  us  when  game  is  afoot. 
They  are  an  unfriendly  folk." 

"It  is  not  game.  It  is  —  it  is — I  cannot  say 
what  it  is." 

"We  will  go  there.  I  have  never  seen  a 
White  Hood,  and  I  wish  to  see  the  other  things. 
Did  he  kill  them  ?  " 

"They  are  all  dead  things.  He  says  he  is  the 
keeper  of  them  all." 

"Ah!  As  a  wolf  stands  above  meat  he  has 
taken  to  his  own  lair.      Let  us  gfo." 

Mowgli  swam  to  bank,  rolled  on  the  grass 
to  dry  himself,  and  the  two  set  off  for  Cold  Lairs, 
the  deserted  city  of  which  you  may  have  heard. 
Mowgli  was  not  the  least  afraid  of  the  Monkey 
People  in  those  days,  but  the  Monkey  People  had 
the  liveliest  horror  of  Mowgli.  Their  tribes,  how- 
ever, were  raiding  in  the  Jungle,  and  so  Cold 
Lairs  stood  empty  and  silent  in  the  moonlight. 
Kaa  led  up  to  the  ruins  of  the  queen's  pavilion 
that  stood  on  the  terrace,  slipped  over  the  rub- 
bish, and  dived  down  the  half-choked  staircase 
that  went  underground  from  the  center  of  the 
pavilion.      Mowgli    gave   the   snake-call  —  "We 


THE   KING'S  ANKUS  167 

be  of  one  blood,  ye  and  I," — and  followed  on  his 
hands  and  knees.  They  crawled  a  long  distance 
down  a  sloping  passage  that  turned  and  twisted 
several  times,  and  at  last  came  to  where  the  root 
of  some  great  tree,  growing  thirty  feet  over- 
head, had  forced  out  a  solid  stone  in  the  wall. 
They  crept  through  the  gap,  and  found  them- 
selves in  a  large  vault,  whose  domed  roof  had 
been  also  broken  away  by  tree-roots  so  that  a 
few  streaks  of  light  dropped  down  into  the 
darkness. 

"A  safe  lair,"  said  Mowgli,  rising  to  his  firm 
feet,  "but  over  far  to  visit  daily.  And  now  what 
do  we  see  ?  " 

"Am  I  nothing?"  said  a  voice  in  the  middle 
of  the  vault ;  and  Mowgli  saw  something  white 
move  till,  little  by  little,  there  stood  up  the  hugest 
cobra  he  had  ever  set  eyes  on  —  a  creature  nearly 
eight  feet  long,  and  bleached  by  being  in  dark- 
ness to  an  old  ivory-white.  Even  the  spectacle- 
marks  of  his  spread  hood  had  faded  to  faint 
yellow.  His  eyes  were  as  red  as  rubies,  and  al- 
together he  was  most  wonderful. 

"  Good  hunting !  "  said  Mowgli,  who  carried 
his  manners  with  his  knife,  and  that  never  left 
him. 

"What  of  my  city?"  said  the  White   Cobra, 


168  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

without  answering  the  greeting.  "  What  of  the 
great,  the  walled  city — the  city  of  a  hundred  ele- 
phants and  twenty  thousand  horses,  and  cattle 
past  counting  —  the  city  of  the  King  of  Twenty 
Kings  ?  I  grow  deaf  here,  and  it  is  long  since  I 
heard  their  war-gongs." 

"  The  Jungle  is  above  our  heads,"  said  Mowgli. 
"  I  know  only  Hathi  and  his  sons  among  ele- 
phants. Bagheera  has  slain  all  the  horses  in  one 
village,  and  —  what  is  a  King?" 

"  I  told  thee,"  said  Kaa  softly  to  the  Cobra — 
"  I  told  thee,  four  moons  ago,  that  thy  city  was 
not." 

"  The  city — the  great  city  of  the  forest  whose 
gates  are  guarded  by  the  King's  towers — can 
never  pass.  They  builded  it  before  my  father's 
father  came  from  the  egg,  and  it  shall  endure 
when  my  son's  sons  are  as  white  as  I  !  Salomdhi, 
son  of  Chandrabija,  son  of  Viyeja,  son  of  Yega- 
suri,  made  it  in  the  days  of  Bappa  Rawal.  Whose 
cattle  are  ye  ?  " 

"  It  is  a  lost  trail,"  said  Mowsdi,  turning  to 
Kaa.      "  I  know  not  his  talk." 

"  Nor  I.  He  is  very  old.  Father  of  Cobras, 
there  is  only  the  Jungle  here,  as  it  has  been  since 
the  beginning." 

"  Then  who  is  he"  said  the  White  Cobra,  "  sit- 


THE    KING'S  ANKUS  169 

ting  down  before  me,  unafraid,  knowing  not  the 
name  of  the  King,  talking  our  talk  through  a 
man's  lips  ?  Who  is  he  with  the  knife  and  the 
snake's  tongue  ? " 

"  Mowgli  they  call  me,"  was  the  answer.  "I 
am  of  the  Jungle.  The  Wolves  are  my  people, 
and  Kaa  here  is  my  brother.  Father  of  Cobras, 
who  art  thou  ?  " 

"  I  am  the  Warden  of  the  Kind's  Treasure. 
Kurrun  Raja  builded  the  stone  above  me,  in  the 
days  when  my  skin  was  dark,  that  I  might  teach 
death  to  those  who  came  to  steal.  Then  they  let 
down  the  treasure  through  the  stone,  and  I  heard 
the  song  of  the  Brahmins  my  masters." 

"  Umm  !  "  said  Mowgli  to  himself.  "  I  have 
dealt  with  one  Brahmin  already,  in  the  Man- Pack, 
and —  I  know  what  I  know.  Evil  comes  here  in 
a  little." 

"  Five  times  since  I  came  here  has  the  stone 
been  lifted,  but  always  to  let  down  more,  and 
never  to  take  away.  There  are  no  riches  like 
these  riches — the  treasures  of  a  hundred  kings. 
But  it  is  long  and  long  since  the  stone  was  last_ 
moved,  and  I  think  that  my  city  has  forgotten." 

"  There  is  no  city.  Look  up.  Yonder  are  roots 
of  the  great  trees  tearing  the  stones  apart.  Trees 
and  men  do  not  grow  together,"  Kaa  insisted. 


170  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

"  Twice  and  thrice  have  men  found  their  way 
here,"  the  White  Cobra  answered  savagely  ;  "  but 
they  never  spoke  till  I  came  upon  them  groping 
in  the  dark,  and  then  they  cried  only  a  little  time. 
But  ye  come  with  lies,  Man  and  Snake  both,  and 
would  have  me  believe  the  city  is  not,  and  that 
my  wardship  ends.  Little  do  men  change  in  the 
years.  But  /  change  never !  Till  the  stone  is 
lifted,  and  the  Brahmins  come  down  singing  the 
songs  that  I  know,  and  feed  me  with  warm  milk, 
and  take  me  to  the  light  again,  I  —  I  —  /,  and  no 
other,  am  the  Warden  of  the  King's  Treasure  ! 
The  city  is  dead,  ye  say,  and  here  are  the  roots 
of  the  trees?  Stoop  down,  then,  and  take  what  ye 
will.  Earth  has  no  treasure  like  to  these.  Man 
with  the  snake's  tongue,  if  thou  canst  go  alive  by 
the  way  that  thou  hast  entered  at,  the  lesser  Kings 
will  be  thy  servants  !  " 

"Again  the  trail  is  lost,"  said  Mowgli,  coolly. 
"  Can  any  jackal  have  burrowed  so  deep  and  bit- 
ten this  great  White  Hood  ?  He  is  surely  mad. 
Father  of  Cobras,  I  see  nothing  here  to  take 
away." 

"  By  the  Gods  of  the  Sun  and  Moon,  it  is  the 
madness  of  death  upon  the  boy  !  "  hissed  the  Co- 
bra. "  Before  thine  eyes  close  I  will  allow  thee 
this  favor.  Look  thou,  and  see  what  man  has 
never  seen  before  !  " 


THE   KING'S  ANKUS  171 

"  They  do  not  well  in  the  Jungle  who  speak  to 
Mowgli  of  favors,"  said  the  boy,  between  his 
teeth  ;  "  but  the  dark  changes  all,  as  I  know.  I 
will  look,  if  that  please  thee." 

He  stared  with  puckered-up  eyes  round  the 
vault,  and  then  lifted  up  from  the  floor  a  handful 
of  something  that  glittered. 

"Oho!"  said  he,  "this  is  like  the  stuff  they 
play  with  in  the  Man- Pack  :  only  this  is  yellow 
and  the  other  was  brown." 

He  let  the  gold  pieces  fall,  and  moved  forward. 
The  floor  of  the  vault  was  buried  some  five  or  six 
feet  deep  in  coined  gold  and  silver  that  had  burst 
from  the  sacks  it  had  been  originally  stored  in, 
and,  in  the  long  years,  the  metal  had  packed  and 
settled  as  sand  packs  at  low  tide.  On  it  and  in 
it,  and  rising  through  it,  as  wrecks  lift  through 
the  sand,  were  jeweled  elephant-howdahs  of  em- 
bossed silver,  studded  with  plates  of  hammered 
gold,  and  adorned  with  carbuncles  and  turquoises. 
There  were  palanquins  and  litters  for  carrying 
queens,  framed  and  braced  with  silver  and  enamel, 
with  jade-handled  poles  and  amber  curtain-rings  ; 
there  were  golden  candlesticks  hung  with  pierced 
emeralds  that  quivered  on  the  branches ;  there 
were  studded  images,  five  feet  high,  of  forgotten 
gods,  silver  with  jeweled  eyes ;  there  were  coats 


172  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 


of  mail,  gold  inlaid  on  steel,  and  fringed  with 
rotted  and  blackened  seed-pearls  ;  there  were  hel- 
mets, crested  and  beaded  with  pigeon's-blood 
rubies  ;  there  were  shields  of  lacquer,  of  tortoise- 
shell  and  rhinoceros-hide,  strapped  and  bossed 
with  red  gold  and  set  with  emeralds  at  the  edge; 
there  were  sheaves  of  diamond-hilted  swords, 
daggers,  and  hunting-knives ;  there  were  golden 
sacrificial  bowls  and  ladles,  and  portable  altars 
of  a  shape  that  never  see  the  light  of  day  ;  there 
were  jade  cups  and  bracelets  ;  there  were  incense- 
burners,  combs,  and  pots  for  perfume,  henna,  and 
eye-powder,  all  in  embossed  gold ;  there  were 
nose-rings,  armlets,  head-bands,  finger-rings,  and 
girdles  past  any  counting  ;  there  were  belts,  seven 
fingers  broad,  of  square-cut  diamonds  and  rubies, 
and  wooden  boxes,  trebly  clamped  with  iron,  from 
which  the  wood  had  fallen  away  in  powder,  show- 
ing the  pile  of  uncut  star-sapphires,  opals,  cat's- 
eyes,  sapphires,  rubies,  diamonds,  emeralds,  and 
o-arnets  within. 

The  White  Cobra  was  right.  No  mere  money 
would  begin  to  pay  the  value  of  this  treasure,  the 
sifted  pickings  of  centuries  of  war,  plunder,  trade, 
and  taxation.  The  coins  alone  were  priceless, 
leaving  out  of  count  all  the  precious  stones  ;  and 
the  dead  weight  of  the  gold  and  silver  alone  might 


THE   KING'S  ANKUS 


173 


be  two  or  three  hundred  tons.  Every  native  ruler 
in  India  to-day,  however  poor,  has  a  hoard  to 
which  he  is  always  adding;  and 
though,  once  in  a  long  while, 
some  enlightened  prince  may 
send  off  forty  or  fifty  bullock- 
cart  loads  of  silver  to  be  ex- 
changed for  Government  securi- 
ties, the  bulk  of  them  keep  their 
treasure  and  the  knowledge  of  it 
very  closely  to  themselves. 

But  Mowgli  naturally  did  not 
understand    what    these    thing's 

<z> 

meant.  The  knives  interested 
him  a  little,  but  they  did  not 
balance  so  well  as  his  own,  and 
so  he  dropped  them.  At  last  he 
found  something  really  fascinat- 
ing laid  on  the  front  of  a  how- 
dah  half  buried  in  the  coins.  It 
was  a  three-foot  ankus,  or  ele- 
phant-goad— something  like  a 
small  boat-hook.  The  top  was 
one  round  shining  ruby,  and 
twelve  inches  of  the  handle 
below  it  were  studded  with  rough  turquoises  close 
together,  giving  a  most  satisfactory  grip.      Below 


174  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

them  was  a  rim  of  jade  with  a  flower-pattern  run- 
ning round  it — only  the  leaves  were  emeralds, 
and  the  blossoms  were  rubies  sunk  in  the  cool, 
green  stone.  The  rest  of  the  handle  was  a  shaft 
of,,  pure  ivory,  while  the  point — the  spike  and 
hook — was  gold-inlaid  steel  with  pictures  of  ele- 
phant-catching ;  and  the  pictures  attracted  Mow- 
gli,  who  saw  that  they  had  something  to  do  with 
his  friend  Hathi  the  Silent. 

The  White  Cobra  had  been  following  him 
closely. 

"  Is  this  not  worth  dying  to  behold?  "  he  said. 
"  Have  I  not  done  thee  a  great  favor  ?  " 

"I  do  not  understand,"  said  Mowgli.  "The 
things  are  hard  and  cold,  and  by  no  means  good 
to  eat.  But  this  " — he  lifted  the  ankus —  "  I  de- 
sire to  take  away,  that  I  may  see  it  in  the  sun. 
Thou  sayest  they  are  all  thine  ?  Wilt  thou  give 
it  to  me,  and  I  will  bring  thee  frogs  to  eat  ?  " 

The  White  Cobra  fairly  shook  with  evil  delight. 
"Assuredly  I  will  give  it,"  he  said.  "  All  that  is 
here  I  will  give  thee — till  thou  goest  away." 

"  But  I  go  now.  This  place  is  dark  and  cold, 
and  I  wish  to  take  the  thorn-pointed  thing  to  the 
Jungle." 

"  Look  by  thy  foot !     What  is  that  there  ?  " 

Mowgli  picked  up  something  white  and  smooth. 


THE   KING'S  ANKUS  175 

"It  is  the  bone  of  a  man's  head,"  he  said  quietly. 
"  And  here  are  two  more." 

"They  came  to  take  the  treasure  away  many 
years  ago.  I  spoke  to  them  in  the  dark,  and  they 
lay  still." 

"  But  what  do  I  need  of  this  that  is  called  trea- 
sure ?  If  thou  wilt  give  me  the  ankus  to  take 
away,  it  is  good  hunting.  If  not,  it  is  good  hunt- 
ing none  the  less.  I  do  not  fight  with  the  Poison 
People,  and  I  was  also  taught  the  Master-word 
of  thy  tribe." 

"There  is  but  one  Master-word  here.  It  is 
mine ! 

Kaa  flung  himself  forward  with  blazing  eyes. 
"  Who  bade  me  bring  the  Man  ?  "  he  hissed. 

"  I  surely,"  the  old  Cobra  lisped.  "  It  is  long 
since  I  have  seen  Man,  and  this  Man  speaks  our 
tongue." 

"  But  there  was  no  talk  of  killing.  How  can  I 
go  to  the  Jungle  and  say  that  I  have  led  him  to 
his  death  ?  "  said  Kaa. 

"  I  talk  not  of  killing  till  the  time.  And  as 
to  thy  going  or  not  going,  there  is  the  hole  in  the 
wall.  Peace,  now,  thou  fat  monkey-killer  !  I  have 
but  to  touch  thy  neck,  and  the  Jungle  will  know 
thee  no  longer.  Never  Man  came  here  that 
went   away  with   the  breath   under  his  ribs.      I 


176  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

am  the  Warden  of  the  Treasure  of  the  King's 
City  !  " 

"  But,  thou  white  worm  of  the  dark,  I  tell  thee 
there  is  neither  king  nor  city  !  The  Jungle  is  all 
about  us  !  "  cried  Kaa. 

"  There  is  still  the  Treasure.  But  this  can  be 
done.  Wait  a  while,  Kaa  of  the  Rocks,  and  see 
the  boy  run.  There  is  room  for  great  sport  here. 
Life  is  good.  Run  to  and  fro  a  while,  and  make 
sport,  boy  !  " 

Mowgli  put  his  hand  on  Kaa's  head  quietly. 

"The  white  thimj  has  dealt  with  men  of  the 
Man- Pack  until  now.  He  does  not  know  me," 
he  whispered.  "He  has  asked  for  this  hunting. 
Let  him  have  it."  Mowgli  had  been  standing 
with  the  ankus  held  point  down.  He  flung  it  from 
him  quickly,  and  it  dropped  crossways  just  behind 
the  great  snake's  hood,  pinning  him  to  the  floor. 
In  a  flash,  Kaa's  weight  was  upon  the  writhing 
body,  paralyzing  it  from  hood  to  tail.  The  red 
eyes  burned,  and  the  six  spare  inches  of  the  head 
struck  furiously  right  and  left. 

"  Kill !  "  said  Kaa,  as  Mowgli's  hand  went  to 
his  knife. 

"No,"  he  said,  as  he  drew  the  blade;  "I  will 
never  kill  again  save  for  food.  But  look  you, 
Kaa  ! "     He  caught  the  snake  behind  the  hood, 


THE   KING'S  ANKUS  177 

forced  the  mouth  open  with  the  blade  of  the  knife, 
and  showed  the  terrible  poison-fangs  of  the  up- 
per jaw  lying  black  and  withered  in  the  gum. 
The  White  Cobra  had  outlived  his  poison,  as  a 
snake  will. 

"Thuu  "  ("  It  is  dried  up  "),x  said  Mowgli ;  and 
motioning  Kaa  away,  he  picked  up  the  ankus, 
setting  the  White  Cobra  free. 

"The  King's  Treasure  needs  a  new  Warden," 
he  said  gravely.  "Thuu,  thou  hast  not  done  well. 
Run  to  and  fro  and  make  sport,  Thuu  !  " 

"  I  am  ashamed.  Kill  me  !  "  hissed  the  White 
Cobra. 

"There  has  been  too  much  talk  of  killing. 
We  will  go  now.  I  take  the  thorn-pointed 
thing,  Thuu,  because  I  have  fought  and  worsted 
thee." 

"  See,  then,  that  the  thing  does  not  kill  thee  at 
last.  It  is  Death!  Remember,  it  is  Death!  There 
is  enough  in  that  thing  to  kill  the  men  of  all  my 
city.  Not  long  wilt  thou  hold  it,  Jungle  Man,  nor 
he  who  takes  it  from  thee.  They  will  kill,  and 
kill,  and  kill  for  its  sake  !  My  strength  is  dried 
up,  but  the  ankus  will  do  my  work.  It  is  Death  ! 
It  is  Death  !     It  is  Death  !  " 

Mowgli  crawled  out  through  the  hole  into  the 

1  Literally,  a  rotted  out  tree- stump. 


178  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

passage  again,  and  the  last  that  he  saw  was  the 
White  Cobra  striking  furiously  with  his  harmless 
fangs  at  the  stolid  golden  faces  of  the  gods  that 
lay  on  the  floor,  and  hissing,  "  It  is  Death  !  " 

They  were  glad  to  get  to  the  light  of  day  once 
more ;  and  when  they  were  back  in  their  own 
Jungle  and  Mowgli  made  the  ankus  glitter  in  the 
morning  light,  he  was  almost  as  pleased  as  though 
he  had  found  a  bunch  of  new  flowers  to  stick  in 
his  hair. 

"This  is  brighter  than  Bagheera's  eyes,"  he 
said  delightedly,  as  he  twirled  the  ruby.  "  I  will 
show  it  to  him  ;  but  what  did  the  Thuu  mean  when 
he  talked  of  death  ?  " 

"  I  cannot  say.  I  am  sorrowful  to  my  tail's  tail 
that  he  felt  not  thy  knife.  There  is  always  evil 
at  Cold  Lairs  —  above  ground  or  below.  But 
now  I  am  hungry.  Dost  thou  hunt  with  me  this 
dawn  ?  "  said  Kaa. 

"  No ;  Bagheera  must  see  this  thing.  Good 
hunting !  "  Mowgli  danced  off,  flourishing  the 
great  ankus,  and  stopping  from  time  to  time  to 
admire  it,  till  he  came  to  that  part  of  the  Jungle 
Bagheera  chiefly  used,  and  found  him  drinking 
after  a  heavy  kill.  Mowgli  told  him  all  his  ad- 
ventures from  beginning  to  end,  and  Bagheera 
sniffed  at  the  ankus  between  whiles.    When  Mow- 


THE   KING'S  ANKUS  179 

gli  came  to  the  White  Cobra's  last  words,  the 
Panther  purred  approvingly. 

"Then  the  White  Hood  spoke  the  thing- which 
is  ?  "  Mowgli  asked  quickly. 

"  I  was  born  in  the  King's  cages  at  Oodey- 
pore,  and  it  is  in  my  stomach  that  I  know  some 
little  of  Man.  Very  many  men  would  kill  thrice  in 
a  night  for  the  sakeof  that  one  big  red  stone  alone." 

"  But  the  stone  makes  it  heavy  to  the  hand. 
My  little  bright  knife  is  better;  and — see!  the 
red  stone  is  not  good  to  eat.  Then  why  would 
they  kill?" 

"  Mowgli,  go  thou  and  sleep.  Thou  hast  lived 
among  men,  and — " 

"  I  remember.  Men  kill  because  they  are  not 
hunting ;  —  for  idleness  and  pleasure.  Wake 
again,  Bagheera.  For  what  use  was  this  thorn- 
pointed  thing  made  ? " 

Bagheera  half  opened  his  eyes — he  was  very 
sleepy — with  a  malicious  twinkle. 

"  It  was  made  by  men  to  thrust  into  the  head 
of  the  sons  of  Hathi,  so  that  the  blood  should  pour 
out.  I  have  seen  the  like  in  the  street  of  Oodey- 
pore,  before  our  cages.  That  thing  has  tasted 
the  blood  of  many  such  as  Hathi." 

"But  why  do  they  thrust  into  the  heads  of 
elephants  ?  " 


180  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

"To  teach  them  Man's  Law.  Having  neither 
claws  nor  teeth,  men  make  these  things — and 
worse." 

"  Always  more  blood  when  I  come  near,  even 
to  the  things  the  Man- Pack  have  made,"  said 
Mowgli,  disgustedly.  He  was  getting  a  little 
tired  of  the  weight  of  the  ankus.  "If  I  had 
known  this,  I  would  not  have  taken  it.  First  it 
was  Messua's  blood  on  the  thongs,  and  now  it  is 
Hathi's.      I  will  use  it  no  more.      Look  !  " 

The  ankus  flew  sparkling,  and  buried  itself 
point  down  thirty  yards  away,  between  the  trees. 
"  So  my  hands  are  clean  of  Death,"  said  Mowgli, 
rubbing  his  palms  on  the  fresh,  moist  earth. 
"  The  Thuu  said  Death  would  follow  me.  He  is 
old  and  white  and  mad." 

"  White  or  black,  or  death  or  life,  /  am  going 
to  sleep,  Little  Brother.  I  cannot  hunt  all  night 
and  howl  all  day,  as  do  some  folk." 

Basdieera  went  off  to  a  hunting-lair  that  he 
knew,  about  two  miles  off.  Mowgli  made  an  easy 
way  for  himself  up  a  convenient  tree,  knotted 
three  or  four  creepers  together,  and  in  less  time 
than  it  takes  to  tell  was  swinging  in  a  hammock 
fifty  feet  above  ground.  Though  he  had  no  posi- 
tive objection  to  strong  daylight,  Mowgli  fol- 
lowed the  custom  of  his  friends,  and  used  it  as 


THE   KING'S  ANKUS  181 

little  as  he  could.  When  he  waked  among  the 
very  loud-voiced  peoples  that  live  in  the  trees, 
it  was  twilight  once  more,  and  he  had  been 
dreaming  of  the  beautiful  pebbles  he  had  thrown 
away. 

"At  least  I  will  look  at  the  thing  again,"  he 
said,  and  slid  down  a  creeper  to  the  earth  ;  but 
Bagheera  was  before  him.  Mowgli  could  hear 
him  snuffing-  in  the  half  lisfht. 

"Where  is  the  thorn-pointed  thing?"  cried 
Mowgli. 

"A  man  has  taken  it.      Here  is  the  trail." 

"  Now  we  shall  see  whether  the  Thuu  spoke 
truth.  If  the  pointed  thing  is  Death,  that  man 
will  die.      Let  us  follow." 

"  Kill  first,"  said  Bagheera.  "  An  empty  stom- 
ach makes  a  careless  eye.  Men  go  very  slowly, 
and  the  Jungle  is  wet  enough  to  hold  the  lightest 
mark." 

They  killed  as  soon  as  they  could,  but  it  was 
nearly  three  hours  before  they  finished  their  meat 
and  drink  and  buckled  down  to  the  trail.  The 
Jungle  People  know  that  nothing  makes  up  for 
being  hurried  over  your  meals. 

"Think  you  the  pointed  thing  will  turn  in  the 
man's  hand  and  kill  him  ? "  Mowgli  asked. 
"  The  Thuu  said  it  was  Death." 


182  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

"We  shall  see  when  we  find,"  said  Bagheera, 
trotting-  with  his  head  low.  "It  is  singfle-foot " 
(he  meant  that  there  was  only  one  man),  "  and 
the  weight  of  the  thing  has  pressed  his  heel  far 
into  the  ground." 

"  Hai !  This  is  as  clear  as  summer  lightning," 
Mowgli  answered ;  and  they  fell  into  the  quick, 
choppy  trail-trot  in  and  out  through  the  checkers 
of  the  moonlight,  following  the  marks  of  those 
two  bare  feet. 

"Now  he  runs  swiftly,"  said  Mowgli.  "The 
toes  are  spread  apart."  They  went  on  over  some 
wet  ground.    "Now  why  does  he  turn  aside  here?" 

"Wait!"  said  Bagheera,  and  flung  himself 
forward  with  one  superb  bound  as  far  as  ever  he 
could.  The  first  thing  to  do  when  a  trail  ceases 
to  explain  itself  is  to  cast  forward  without  leaving 
your  own  confusing  foot-marks  on  the  ground. 
Bagheera  turned  as  he  landed,  and  faced  Mowgli, 
crying,  "  Here  comes  another  trail  to  meet  him. 
It  is  a  smaller  foot,  this  second  trail,  and  the  toes 
turn  inward." 

Then  Mowgli  ran  up  and  looked.  "  It  is  the 
foot  of  a  Gond  hunter,"  he  said.  "  Look  !  Here 
he  dragged  his  bow  on  the  grass.  That  is  why 
the  first  trail  turned  aside  so  quickly.  Big  Foot 
hid  from  Little  Foot." 


THE   KING'S   ANKUS  183 

"That  is  true,"  said  Bagheera.  "Now,  lest 
by  crossing  each  other's  tracks  we  foul  the  signs, 
let  each  take  one  trail.  I  am  Big  Foot,  Little 
Brother,  and  thou  art  Little  Foot,  the  Gond." 

Bagheera  leaped  back  to  the  original  trail,  leav- 
ing Mowgli  stooping  above  the  curious  narrow 
track  of  the  wild  little  man  of  the  woods. 

"  Now,"  said  Bagheera,  moving  step  by  step 
along  the  chain  of  footprints,  "  I,  Big  Foot,  turn 
aside  here.  Now  I  hide  me  behind  a  rock  and 
stand  still,  not  daring  to  shift  my  feet.  Cry  thy 
trail,  Little  Brother." 

"  Now,  I,  Little  Foot,  come  to  the  rock,"  said 
Mowgli,  running  up  his  trail.  "  Now,  I  sit  down 
under  the  rock,  leaning  upon  my  right  hand,  and 
resting  my  bow  between  my  toes.  I  wait  long, 
for  the  mark  of  my  feet  is  deep  here." 

"  I  also,"  said  Bagheera,  hidden  behind  the 
rock.  "  I  wait,  resting  the  end  of  the  thorn- 
pointed  thing  upon  a  stone.  It  slips,  for  here  is 
a  scratch  upon  the  stone.  Cry  thy  trail,  Little 
Brother." 

"  One,  two  twigs  and  a  big  branch  are  broken 
here,"  said  Mowgli,  in  an  undertone.  "  Now,  how 
shall  I  cry  that  ?  Ah!  It  is  plain  now.  I,  Little 
Foot,  go  away  making  noises  and  tramplings  so 
that  Big  Foot  may  hear  me."     He  moved  away 


184  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

from  the  rock  pace  by  pace  among  the  trees,  his 
voice  rising  in  the  distance  as  he  approached  a 
little  cascade.  "I  —  go  —  far  —  away  —  to  — 
where  —  the  —  noise  —  of  —  falling  —  water  — 
covers  —  my  —  noise  ;  and  —  here  —  I  —  wait. 
Cry  thy  trail,  Bagheera,  Big  Foot !  " 

The  panther  had  been  casting  in  every  direc- 
tion to  see  how  Big  Foot's  trail  led  away  from 
behind  the  rock.     Then  he  gave  tongue : 

"  I  come  from  behind  the  rock  upon  my  knees, 
dragging  the  thorn-pointed  thing.  Seeing  no 
one,  I  run.  I,  Big  Foot,  run  swiftly.  The  trail 
is  clear.      Let  each  follow  his  own.      I  run  !  " 

Bagheera  swept  on  along  the  clearly  marked 
trail,  and  Mowgli  followed  the  steps  of  the  Gond. 
For  some  time  there  was  silence  in  the  Jungle. 

"  Where  art  thou,  Little  Foot  ?  "  cried  Bagheera. 
Mowgli's  voice  answered  him  not  fifty  yards  to 
the  right. 

"  Um  !  "  said  the  panther,  with  a  deep  cough. 
"  The  two  run  side  by  side,  drawing  nearer  !  " 

They  raced  on  another  half  mile,  always  keep- 
ing about  the  same  distance,  till  Mowgli,  whose 
head  was  not  so  close  to  the  ground  as  Bagheera's, 
cried:  "  They  have  met.  Good  hunting  —  look! 
Here  stood  Little  Foot,  with  his  knee  on  a  rock 
—  and  yonder  is  Big  Foot  indeed  !  " 


THE    KING'S   ANKUS  185 

Not  ten  yards  in  front  of  them,  stretched  across 
a  pile  of  broken  rocks,  lay  the  body  of  a  villager 
of  the  district,  a  long,  small -feathered  Gond  arrow 
through  his  back  and  breast. 

"  Was  the  Thuu  so  old  and  so  mad,  Little  Bro- 
ther?" said  Bagheera  gently.  "Here  is  one 
death,  at  least." 

"  Follow  on.  But  where  is  the  drinker  of  ele- 
phant's blood — the  red-eyed  thorn?" 

"Little  Foot  has  it — perhaps.  It  is  single- 
foot  again  now." 

The  single  trail  of  a  lig-ht  man  who  had  been 
running  quickly  and  bearing  a  burden  on  his  left 
shoulder,  held  on  round  a  long,  low  spur  of  dried 
grass,  where  each  footfall  seemed,  to  the  sharp 
eyes  of  the  trackers,  marked  in  hot  iron. 

Neither  spoke  till  the  trail  ran  up  to  the  ashes 
of  a  camp-fire  hidden  in  a  ravine. 

"  Again  !  "  said  Bagheera,  checking  as  though 
he  had  been  turned  into  stone. 

The  body  of  a  little  wizened  Gond  lay  with  its 
feet  in  the  ashes,  and  Bagheera  looked  inquiringly 
at  Mowgli. 

"  That  was  done  with  a  bamboo,"  said  the  boy, 
after  one  glance.  "  I  have  used  such  a  thing 
among  the  buffaloes  when  I  served  in  the  Man- 
Pack.     The  Father  of  Cobras  —  I  am  sorrowful 


186  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

that  I  made  a  jest  of  him —  knew  the  breed  well, 
as  I  might  have  known.  Said  I  not  that  men  kill 
for  idleness  ?  " 

"  Indeed,  they  killed  for  the  sake  of  the  red  and 
blue  stones,"  Bagheera  answered.  "  Remember, 
I  was  in  the  King's  cages  at  Oodeypore." 

"  One,  two,  three,  four  tracks,"  said  Mowgli, 
stooping  over  the  ashes.  "Four  tracks  of  men 
with  shod  feet.  They  do  not  go  so  quickly  as 
Gonds.  Now,  what  evil  had  the  little  woodman 
done  to  them  ?  See,  they  talked  together,  all  five, 
standing  up,  before  they  killed  him.  Bagheera, 
let  us  go  back.  My  stomach  is  heavy  in  me,  and 
yet  it  heaves  up  and  down  like  an  oriole's  nest  at 
the  end  of  a  branch." 

"It  is  not  good  hunting  to  leave  game  afoot. 
Follow!"  said  the  panther.  "  Those  eight  shod 
feet  have  not  gone  far." 

No  more  was  said  for  fully  an  hour,  as  they 
worked  up  the  broad  trail  of  the  four  men  with 
shod  feet. 

It  was  clear,  hot  daylight  now,  and  Bagheera 
said,  "  I  smell  smoke." 

"  Men  are  always  more  ready  to  eat  than  to 
run,"  Mowgli  answered,  trotting  in  and  out  be- 
tween the  low  scrub  bushes  of  the  new  Jungle  they 
were  exploring.  Bagheera,  a  little  to  his  left, 
made  an  indescribable  noise  in  his  throat. 


THE   KING'S   ANKUS  187 

"  Here  is  one  that  has  done  with  feeding,"  said 
he.  A  tumbled  bundle  of  gay-colored  clothes 
lay  under  a  bush,  and  round  it  was  some  spilt 
flour. 

"  That  was  done  by  the  bamboo  again,"  said 
Mowgli.  "  See !  that  white  dust  is  what  men 
eat.  They  have  taken  the  kill  from  this  one, — 
he  carried  their  food, — and  given  him  for  a  kill  to 
Chil,  the  Kite." 

"  It  is  the  third,"  said  Bagheera. 

"  I  will  go  with  new,  big  frogs  to  the  Father 
of  Cobras,  and  feed  him  fat,"  said  Mowgli  to  him- 
self. "  The  drinker  of  elephant's  blood  is  Death 
himself — but  still  I  do  not  understand  !  " 

"  Follow  !  "  said  Bagheera. 

They  had  not  gone  half  a  mile  further  when 
they  heard  Ko,  the  Crow,  singing  the  death-song 
in  the  top  of  a  tamarisk  under  whose  shade  three 
men  were  lying.  A  half-dead  fire  smoked  in  the 
center  of  the  circle,  under  an  iron  plate  which 
held  a  blackened  and  burned  cake  of  unleavened 
bread.  Close  to  the  fire,  and  blazing  in  the  sun- 
shine, lay  the  ruby-and-turquoise  ankus. 

"  The  thing  works  quickly ;  all  ends  here," 
said  Bagheera.  "  How  did  these  die,  Mowgli  ? 
There  is  no  mark  on  any." 

A  Jungle-dweller  gets  to  learn  by  experience 
as    much    as   many   doctors   know   of  poisonous 


188  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

plants  and  berries.  Mowgli  sniffed  the  smoke 
that  came  up  from  the  fire,  broke  off  a  morsel  of 
the  blackened  bread,  tasted  it,  and  spat  it  out 
again. 

"Apple  of  Death,"  he  coughed.  "The  first 
must  have  made  it  ready  in  the  food  for  these, 
who  killed  him,  having  first  killed  the  Gond." 

"  Good  hunting,  indeed  !  The  kills  follow 
close,"  said  Bagheera. 

"Apple  of  Death"  is  what  the  Jungle  call 
thorn-apple  or  dhatura,  the  readiest  poison  in  all 
India. 

"  What  now  ?  "  said  the  panther.  "  Must  thou 
and  I  kill  each  other  for  yonder  red-eyed  slayer?  " 

"Can  it  speak?"  said  Mowgli,  in  a  whisper. 
"Did  I  do  it  a  wrong  when  I  threw  it  away? 
Between  us  two  it  can  do  no  wrong,  for  we  do 
not  desire  what  men  desire.  If  it  be  left  here,  it 
will  assuredly  continue  to  kill  men  one  after  an- 
other as  fast  as  nuts  fall  in  a  high  wind.  I  have 
no  love  to  men,  but  even  I  would  not  have  them 
die  six  in  a  niorht." 

"What  matter?  They  are  only  men.  They 
killed  one  another  and  were  well  pleased,"  said 
Bagheera.  "  That  first  little  woodman  hunted 
well." 

"  They  are  cubs  none  the  less ;  and  a  cub  will 


THE   KING'S   ANKUS  189 

drown  himself  to  bite  the  moon's  light  on  the 
water.  The  fault  was  mine,"  said  Mowgli,  who 
spoke  as  though  he  knew  all  about  everything. 
"  I  will  never  again  bring  into  the  Jungle  strange 
things — not  though  they  be  as  beautiful  as  flow- 
ers. This"  — he  handled  the  ankus  gingerly  — 
"  goes  back  to  the  Father  of  Cobras.  But  first 
we  must  sleep,  and  we  cannot  sleep  near  these 
sleepers.  Also  we  must  bury  him,  lest  he  run 
away  and  kill  another  six.  Dig  me  a  hole  under 
that  tree." 

"  But,  Little  Brother,"  said  Bagheera,  moving 
off  to  the  spot,  "  I  tell  thee  it  is  no  fault  of  the 
blood-drinker.     The  trouble  is  with  men." 

"  All  one,"  said  Mowgli.  "  Dig  the  hole  deep. 
When  we  wake  I  will  take  him  up  and  carry  him 
back." 


Two  nights  later,  as  the  White  Cobra  sat 
mourning  in  the  darkness  of  the  vault,  ashamed, 
and  robbed,  and  alone,  the  turquoise  ankus 
whirled  through  the  hole  in  the  wall,  and  clashed 
on  the  floor  of  golden    coins. 

"  Father  of  Cobras,"  said  Mowgli  (he  was  care- 
ful to  keep  the  other  side  of  the  wall),  "get  thee 
a  young  and  ripe  one  of  thine  own  people  to  help 


190 


THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 


thee  guard  the  King's  Treasure  so  that  no  man 
may  come  away  alive  any  more." 

"  Ah-ha  !  It  returns,  then.  I  said  the  thing 
was  Death.  How  comes  it  that  thou  art  still 
alive  ?  "  the  old  Cobra  mumbled,  twining  lovingly 
round  the  ankus-haft. 

"  By  the  Bull  that  bought  me,  I  do  not  know ! 
That  thing  has  killed  six  times  in  a  night.  Let 
him  go  out  no  more." 


THE   SONG   OF   THE    LITTLE    HUNTER 

RE  Mor  the  Peacock  flutters,  ere 
the  Monkey  People  cry, 
Ere  Chil  the  Kite  swoops  down 
a  furlong  sheer, 
Through  the  Jungle  very  softly 
flits  a  shadow  and  a  sigh — 
He  is  Fear,  O  Little  Hunter, 
he  is  Fear  ! 
Very  softly  down  the  glade  runs 
a  waiting,  watching  shade, 
And  the  whisper  spreads  and  widens  far  and  near ; 
And  the  sweat  is  on  thy  brow,  for  he  passes  even 
now — 
He  is  Fear,  O  Little  Hunter,  he  is  Fear  ! 


Ere  the  moon  has  climbed  the  mountain,  ere  the  rocks 
are  ribbed  with  light, 
When  the  downward-dipping  trails  are  dank  and 
drear, 
Comes  a  breathing  hard  behind  thee — snuffle-snuffle 
through  the  night — 
It  is  Fear,  O  Little  Hunter,  it  is  Fear ! 
On  thy  knees  and  draw  the  bow ;  bid  the  shrilling 
arrow  go ; 
In  the  empty,  mocking  thicket  plunge  the  spear; 


192 


THE    SECOND    JUNGLE    BOOK 


But  thy  hands  are  loosed  and  weak,  and  the  blood  has 
left  thy  cheek  — 
It  is  Fear,  O  Little  Hunter,  it  is  Fear! 

When  the  heat-cloud  sucks  the  tempest,  when  the  sliv- 
ered pine-trees  fall, 
When  the  blinding,  blaring  rain-squalls  lash  and  veer; 
Through   the  war-gongs  of  the   thunder   rings  a  voice 
more  loud  than  all — 
It  is  Fear,  O  Little  Hunter,  it  is  Fear  ! 
Now  the  spates  are  banked  and  deep  ;   now  the  footless 
boulders  leap  — 
Now  the  lightning  shows  each  littlest  leaf-rib  clear — 
But  thy  throat  is  shut  and  dried,  and  thy  heart  against 
thy  side 
Hammers:   Fear,  O  Little  Hunter — this  is  Fear! 


QUIQUERN 


The  People  of  the  Eastern  Ice,  they  are  melting  like  the  snow  — 
They  beg  for  coffee  and  sugar ;  they  go  where  the  white  men  go. 
The  People  of  the  Western  Ice,  they  learn  to  steal  and  fight; 
They  sell  their  furs  to  the  trading-post;  they  sell  their  souls  to  the 

white. 
The  People  of  the  Southern  Ice,  they  trade  with  the  whaler's 

crew; 
Their  women  have  many  ribbons,  but  their  tents  are  torn  and  few. 
But  the  People  of  the  Elder  Ice,  beyond  the  white  man's  ken  — 
Their  spears  are  made  of  the  narwhal-horn,  and  they  are  the  last 

of  the  Menl 

—Translation, 


QUIQUERN 


E     has     opened     his     eyes. 
Look!" 

"Put  him  in  the  skin 
again.  He  will  be  a  strong 
dog.  On  the  fourth  month 
we  will  name  him." 

"  For  whom  ?  "  said  Amo- 
raq. 

Kadlu's  eye  rolled  round 
the  skin-lined  snow-house 
till  it  fell  on  fourteen-year- 
old  Kotuko  sitting  on  the  sleeping-bench,  making 
a  button  out  of  walrus  ivory.  "  Name  him  for 
me,"  said  Kotuko,  with  a  grin.  "  I  shall  need 
him   one  day." 

Kadlu  grinned  back  till  his  eyes  were  almost 
19s 


196  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

buried  in  the  fat  of  his  flat  cheeks,  and  nodded  to 
Amoraq,  while  the  puppy's  fierce  mother  whined 
to  see  her  baby  wriggling  far  out  of  reach  in  the 
little  sealskin  pouch  hung  above  the  warmth  of 
the  blubber-lamp.  Kotuko  went  on  with  his 
carving,  and  Kadlu  threw  a  rolled  bundle  of  lea- 
ther dog-harnesses  into  a  tiny  little  room  that 
opened  from  one  side  of  the  house,  slipped  off 
his  heavy  deerskin  hunting-suit,  put  it  into  a 
whalebone-net  that  hung  above  another  lamp,  and 
dropped  down  on  the  sleeping-bench  to  whittle 
at  a  piece  of  frozen  seal-meat  till  Amoraq,  his 
wife,  should  bring  the  regular  dinner  of  boiled 
meat  and  blood-soup.  He  had  been  out  since 
early  dawn  at  the  seal-holes,  eight  miles  away, 
and  had  come  home  with  three  big  seal.  Half- 
way down  the  long,  low  snow  passage  or  tunnel 
that  led  to  the  inner  door  of  the  house  you  could 
hear  snappings  and  yelpings,  as  the  dogs  of  his 
sleigh-team,  released  from  the  day's  work,  scuffled 
for  warm  places. 

When  the  yelpings  grew  too  loud  Kotuko  lazily 
rolled  off  the  sleeping-bench,  and  picked  up  a 
whip  with  an  eighteen-inch  handle  of  springy 
whalebone,  and  twenty-five  feet  of  heavy,  plaited 
thong.  He  dived  into  the  passage,  where  it 
sounded  as  though  all  the  dogs  were  eating  him 


QU1QUERN  197 

alive ;  but  that  was  no  more  than  their  regular 
grace  before  meals.  When  he  crawled  out  at  the 
far  end  half  a  dozen  furry  heads  followed  him 
with  their  eyes  as  he  went  to  a  sort  of  gallows 
of  whale-jawbones,  from  which  the  dog's  meat 
was  hung ;  split  off  the  frozen  stuff  in  big  lumps 
with  a  broad-headed  spear ;  and  stood,  his  whip 
in  one  hand  and  the  meat  in  the  other.  Each 
beast  was  called  by  name,  the  weakest  first, 
and  woe  betide  any  dog  that  moved  out  of  his 
turn ;  for  the  tapering  lash  would  shoot  out  like 
thonged  lightning,  and  flick  away  an  inch  or  so 
of  hair  and  hide.  Each  beast  growled,  snapped, 
choked  once  over  his  portion,  and  hurried 
back  to  the  protection  of  the  passage,  while  the 
boy  stood  upon  the  snow  under  the  blazing 
Northern  Lights  and  dealt  out  justice.  The 
last  to  be  served  was  the  big-  black  leader  of 
the  team,  who  kept  order  when  the  dogs  were 
harnessed ;  and  to  him  Kotuko  gave  a  double 
allowance  of  meat  as  well  as  an  extra  crack  of  the 
whip. 

"Ah!"  said  Kotuko,  coiling  up  the  lash,  "I 
have  a  little  one  over  the  lamp  that  will  make  a 
great  many  howlings.      Sarpok  /     Get  in  !  " 

He  crawled  back  over  the  huddled  dogs,  dusted 
the  dry  snow  from  his  furs  with  the  whalebone 


198  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

beater  that  Amoraq  kept  by  the  door,  tapped 
the  skin-lined  roof  of  the  house  to  shake  off  any 
icicles  that  might  have  fallen  from  the  dome  of 
snow  above,  and  curled  up  on  the  bench.  The 
dogs  in  the  passage  snored  and  whined  in  their 
sleep,  the  boy-baby  in  Amoraq's  deep  fur  hood 
kicked  and  choked  and  gurgled,  and  the  mother 
of  the  newly  named  puppy  lay  at  Kotuko's  side, 
her  eyes  fixed  on  the  bundle  of  sealskin,  warm 
and  safe  above  the  broad  yellow  flame  of  the 
lamp. 

And  all  this  happened  far  away  to  the  north, 
beyond  Labrador,  beyond  Hudson's  Strait,  where 
the  great  tides  heave  the  ice  about,  north  of  Mel- 
ville Peninsula  —  north  even  of  the  narrow  Fury 
and  Hecla  Straits — on  the  north  shore  of  Baffin 
Land,  where  Bylot's  Island  stands  above  the  ice 
of  Lancaster  Sound  like  a  pudding-bowl  wrong 
side  up.  North  of  Lancaster  Sound  there  is  lit- 
tle we  know  anything  about,  except  North  Devon 
and  Ellesmere  Land ;  but  even  there  live  a  few 
scattered  people,  next  door,  as  it  were,  to  the 
very  Pole. 

Kadlu  was  an  Inuit, —  what  you  call  an  Es- 
quimau,—  and  his  tribe,  some  thirty  persons  all 
told,  belonged  to  the  Tununirmiut — "the  coun- 
try lying  at  the  back   of  something."     In   the 


QUIQUERN  199 

maps  that  desolate  coast  is  written  Navy  Board 
Inlet,  but  the  Inuit  name  is  best,  because  the 
country  lies  at  the  very  back  of  everything  in  the 
world.  For  nine  months  of  the  year  there  is  only 
ice,  snow,  and  gale  after  gale,  with  a  cold  that 
no  one  can  realize  who  has  never  seen  the  ther- 
mometer even  at  zero.  For  six  months  of  those 
nine  it  is  dark ;  and  that  is  what  makes  it  so  hor- 
rible. In  the  three  months  of  the  summer  it 
only  freezes  every  other  day  and  every  night, 
and  then  the  snow  begins  to  weep  off  on  the 
southerly  slopes,  and  a  few  ground-willows  put 
out  their  woolly  buds,  a  tiny  stonecrop  or  so 
makes  believe  to  blossom,  beaches  of  fine  gravel 
and  rounded  stones  run  down  to  the  open  sea, 
and  polished  boulders  and  streaked  rocks  lift  up 
above  the  granulated  snow.  But  all  that  is  gone 
in  a  few  weeks,  and  the  wild  winter  locks  down 
again  on  the  land ;  while  at  sea  the  ice  tears 
up  and  down  the  offing,  jamming  and  ramming, 
and  splitting  and  hitting,  and  pounding  and 
grounding,  till  it  all  freezes  together,  ten  feet 
thick,  from  the  land  outward  to  deep  water. 

In  the  winter  Kadlu  would  follow  the  seal  to 
the  edge  of  this  land-ice,  and  spear  them  as  they 
came  up  to  breathe  at  their  blow-holes.  The 
seal    must  have  open  water  to   live    and  catch 


200  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

fish  in,  and  in  the  deep  of  winter  the  ice  would 
sometimes  run  eighty  miles  without  a  break  from 
the  nearest  shore.  In  the  spring  he  and  his  peo- 
ple retreated  from  the  floes  to  the  rocky  main- 
land, where  they  put  up  tents  of  skins,  and 
snared  the  sea-birds,  or  speared  the  young  seal 
basking  on  the  beaches.  Later,  they  would  go 
south  into  Baffin  Land  after  the  reindeer,  and  to 
get  their  year's  store  of  salmon  from  the  hun- 
dreds of  streams  and  lakes  of  the  interior;  coming 
back  north  in  September  or  October  for  the 
musk-ox  hunting  and  the  regular  winter  sealery. 
This  traveling  was  done  with  dog-sleighs,  twenty 
and  thirty  miles  a  day,  or  sometimes  down  the 
coast  in  big  skin  "woman-boats,"  when  the  dogs 
and  the  babies  lay  among  the  feet  of  the  rowers, 
and  the  women  sang  songs  as  they  glided  from 
cape  to  cape  over  the  glassy,  cold  waters.  All 
the  luxuries  that  the  Tununirmiut  knew  came 
from  the  south  —  driftwood  for  sleigh-runners, 
rod-iron  for  harpoon-tips,  steel  knives,  tin  kettles 
that  cooked  food  much  better  than  the  old  soap- 
stone  affairs,  flint  and  steel,  and  even  matches, 
as  well  as  colored  ribbons  for  the  women's  hair, 
little  cheap  mirrors,  and  red  cloth  for  the  edging 
of  deerskin  dress-jackets.  Kadlu  traded  the  rich, 
creamy,  twisted  narwhal-horn  and  musk-ox  teeth 


QUIOUERN  201 

(these  are  just  as  valuable  as  pearls)  to  the 
Southern  Inuit,  and  they,  in  turn,  traded  with  the 
whalers  and  the  missionary-posts  of  Exeter  and 
Cumberland  Sounds ;  and  so  the  chain  went  on, 
till  a  kettle  picked  up  by  a  ship's  cook  in  the 
Bhendy  Bazaar  might  end  its  days  over  a  blubber- 
lamp  somewhere  on  the  cool  side  of  the  Arctic 
Circle. 

Kadlu,  being  a  good  hunter,  was  rich  in  iron 
harpoons,  snow-knives,  bird-darts,  and  all  the 
other  things  that  make  life  easy  up  there  in  the 
great  cold ;  and  he  was  the  head  of  this  tribe,  or, 
as  they  say,  "the  man  who  knows  all  about  it  by 
practice."  This  did  not  give  him  any  authority, 
except  now  and  then  he  could  advise  his  friends 
to  change  their  hunting-grounds ;  but  Kotuko 
used  it  to  domineer  a  little,  in  the  lazy,  fat  Inuit 
fashion,  over  the  other  boys,  when  they  came  out 
at  night  to  play  ball  in  the  moonlight,  or  to  sing 
the  Child's  Song  to  the  Aurora  Borealis. 

But  at  fourteen  an  Inuit  feels  himself  a  man, 
and  Kotuko  was  tired  of  making  snares  for  wild 
fowl  and  kit-foxes,  and  most  tired  of  all  of  help- 
ing the  women  to  chew  seal  -  and  deerskins  (that 
supples  them  as  nothing  else  can)  the  long  day 
through,  while  the  men  were  out  hunting.  He 
wanted  to  go  into  the  qiiaggi,  the  Singing- House, 


202  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

when  the  hunters  gathered  there  for  their  mys- 
teries, and  the  augekok,  the  sorcerer,  frightened 
them  into  the  most  delightful  fits  after  the  lamps 
were  put  out,  and  you  could  hear  the  Spirit  of 
the  Reindeer  stamping  on  the  roof;  and  when  a 
spear  was  thrust  out  into  the  open  black  night  it 
came  back  covered  with  hot  blood.  He  wanted 
to  throw  his  big  boots  into  the  net  with  the  tired 
air  of  a  head  of  a  family,  and  to  gamble  with 
the  hunters  when  they  dropped  in  of  an  evening 
and  played  a  sort  of  home-made  roulette  with 
a  tin  pot  and  a  nail.  There  were  hundreds  of 
things  that  he  wanted  to  do,  but  the  grown  men 
laughed  at  him  and  said,  "Wait  till  you  have 
been  in  the  buckle,  Kotuko.  Hunting  is  not  all 
catching." 

Now  that  his  father  had  named  a  puppy  for 
him,  things  looked  brighter.  An  Inuit  does  not 
waste  a  good  dog  on  his  son  till  the  boy  knows 
something  of  dog-driving  ;  and  Kotuko  was  more 
than  sure  that  he  knew  more  than  everything. 

If  the  puppy  had  not  had  an  iron  constitution 
he  would  have  died  from  over-stuffing  and  over- 
handling.  Kotuko  made  him  a  tiny  harness  with 
a  trace  to  it,  and  hauled  him  all  over  the  house 
floor,  shouting:  "Aua!  Ja  aua ! "  (Go  to  the 
right.)     "  Choiachoi !    J  a  choiachoi !  "    (Go  to  the 


QUIQUERN  203 

left.)  "Ohaha!"  (Stop.)  The  puppy  did  not 
like  it  at  all,  but  being  fished  for  in  this  way- 
was  pure  happiness  beside  being  put  to  the 
sleigh  for  the  first  time.  He  just  sat  down  on  the 
snow,  and  played  with  the  seal-hide  trace  that 
ran  from  his  harness  to  the  pitu,  the  big  thong 
in  the  bows  of  the  sleigh.  Then  the  team 
started,  and  the  puppy  found  the  heavy  ten-foot 
sleigh  running  up  his  back,  and  dragging  him 
along  the  snow,  while  Kotuko  laughed  till  the 
tears  ran  down  his  face.  There  followed  days 
and  days  of  the  cruel  whip  that  hisses  like 
the  wind  over  ice,  and  his  companions  all  bit  him 
because  he  did  not  know  his  work,  and  the  har- 
ness chafed  him,  and  he  was  not  allowed  to  sleep 
with  Kotuko  any  more,  but  had  to  take  the  cold- 
est place  in  the  passage.  It  was  a  sad  time  for 
the  puppy. 

The  boy  learned,  too,  as  fast  as  the  dog ; 
though  a  dog-sleigh  is  a  heartbreaking  thing  to 
manage.  Each  beast  is  harnessed,  the  weakest 
nearest  to  the  driver,  by  his  own  separate  trace, 
which  runs  under  his  left  fore -leg  to  the  main 
thong,  where  it  is  fastened  by  a  sort  of  button 
and  loop  which  can  be  slipped  by  a  turn  of  the 
wrist,  thus  freeing  one  dog  at  a  time.  This  is 
very  necessary,  because  young  dogs  often  get  the 


204  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

trace  between  their  hind  legs,  where  it  cuts  to 
the  bone.  And  they  one  and  all  will  go  visiting 
their  friends  as  they  run,  jumping  in  and  out 
among  the  traces.  Then  they  fight,  and  the 
result  is  more  mixed  than  a  wet  fishing-line  next 
morning.  A  great  deal  of  trouble  can  be  avoided 
by  scientific  use  of  the  whip.  Every  Inuit  boy 
prides  himself  as  being  a  master  of  the  long  lash  ; 
but  it  is  easy  to  flick  at  a  mark  on  the  ground, 
and  difficult  to  lean  forward  and  catch  a  shirking 
dog  just  behind  the  shoulders  when  the  sleigh  is 
going  at  full  speed.  If  you  call  one  dog's  name 
for  "visiting,"  and  accidentally  lash  another,  the 
two  will  fight  it  out  at  once,  and  stop  all  the 
others.  Again,  if  you  travel  with  a  companion 
and  begin  to  talk,  or  by  yourself  and  sing,  the 
dogs  will  halt,  turn  round,  and  sit  down  to  hear 
what  you  have  to  say.  Kotuko  was  run  away 
from  once  or  twice  through  forgetting  to  block 
the  sleigh  when  he  stopped ;  and  he  broke  many 
lashings,  and  ruined  a  few  thongs,  before  he 
could  be  trusted  with  a  full  team  of  eight  and  the 
light  sleigh.  Then  he  felt  himself  a  person  of 
consequence,  and  on  smooth,  black  ice,  with  a 
bold  heart  and  a  quick  elbow,  he  smoked  along 
over  the  levels  as  fast  as  a  pack  in  full  cry.  He 
would  go  ten  miles  to  the  seal-holes,  and  when 


QUIQUERN  205 

he  was  on  the  hunting-grounds  he  would  twitch 
a  trace  loose  from  the  pitu,  and  free  the  big  black 
leader,  who  was  the  cleverest  dog  in  the  team. 
As  soon  as  the  dog  had  scented  a  breathing-hole 
Kotuko  would  reverse  the  sleigh,  driving  a 
couple  of  sawed-off  antlers,  that  stuck  up  like 
perambulator-handles  from  the  back-rest,  deep 
into  the  snow,  so  that  the  team  could  not  get 
away.  Then  he  would  crawl  forward  inch  by 
inch,  and  wait  till  the  seal  came  up  to  breathe. 
Then  he  would  stab  down  swiftly  with  his  spear 
and  running-line,  and  presently  would  haul  his 
seal  up  to  the  lip  of  the  ice,  while  the  black  leader 
came  up  and  helped  to  pull  the  carcass  across 
the  ice  to  the  sleigh.  That  was  the  time  when 
the  harnessed  dogs  yelled  and  foamed  with  ex- 
citement, and  Kotuko  laid  the  long  lash  like  a 
red-hot  bar  across  all  their  faces,  till  the  carcass 
froze  stiff.  Going  home  was  the  heavy  work. 
The  loaded  sleigh  had  to  be  humored  among  the 
rough  ice,  and  the  dogs  sat  down  and  looked 
hungrily  at  the  seal  instead  of  pulling.  At  last 
they  would  strike  the  well-worn  sleigh -road  to 
the  village,  and  toodle-kiyi  along  the  ringing 
ice,  heads  down  and  tails  up,  while  Kotuko  struck 
up  the  "Angutivaun  tai-na  tau-na-ne  taina"  (The 
Song  of  the  Returning  Hunter),  and  voices  hailed 


206  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

him  from  house  to  house  under  all  that  dim,  star- 
litten  sky. 

When  Kotuko  the  dogf  came  to  his  full  growth 
he  enjoyed  himself  too.  He  fought  his  way  up 
the  team  steadily,  fight  after  fight,  till  one  fine 
evening,  over  their  food,  he  tackled  the  big,  black 
leader  (Kotuko  the  boy  saw  fair  play),  and 
made  second  dog  of  him,  as  they  say.  So  he 
was  promoted  to  the  long  thong  of  the  leading 
dog,  running  five  feet  in  advance  of  all  the 
others:  it  was  his  bounden  duty  to  stop  all  fight- 
ing, in  harness  or  out  of  it,  and  he  wore  a  collar 
of  copper  wire,  very  thick  and  heavy.  On  special 
occasions  he  was  fed  with  cooked  food  inside 
the  house,  and  sometimes  was  allowed  to  sleep 
on  the  bench  with  Kotuko.  He  was  a  good 
seal-dog,  and  would  keep  a  musk-ox  at  bay  by 
running  round  him  and  snapping  at  his  heels. 
He  would  even  —  and  this  for  a  sleigh-dog  is 
the  last  proof  of  bravery  —  he  would  even  stand 
up  to  the  gaunt  Arctic  wolf,  whom  all  dogs  of  the 
North,  as  a  rule,  fear  beyond  anything  that  walks 
the  snow.  He  and  his  master  —  they  did  not 
count  the  team  of  ordinary  dogs  as  company  — 
hunted  together,  day  after  day  and  night  after 
night,  fur-wrapped  boy  and  savage,  long- 
haired, narrow-eyed,  white-fanged,  yellow  brute. 


QUIQUERN  207 

All  an  Inuit  has  to  do  is  to  get  food  and  skins 
for  himself  and  his  family.  The  women-folk 
make  the  skins  into  clothing,  and  occasionally 
help  in  trapping  small  game ;  but  the  bulk  of  the 
food  —  and  they  eat  enormously  —  must  be  found 
by  the  men.  If  the  supply  fails  there  is  no  one 
up  there  to  buy  or  beg  or  borrow  from.  The 
people  must  die. 

An  Inuit  does  not  think  of  these  chances  till 
he  is  forced  to.  Kadlu,  Kotuko,  Amoraq,  and 
the  boy-baby  who  kicked  about  in  Amoraq's  fur 
hood  and  chewed  pieces  of  blubber  all  day,  were 
as  happy  together  as  any  family  in  the  world. 
They  came  of  a  very  gentle  race  —  an  Inuit 
seldom  loses  his  temper,  and  almost  never  strikes 
a  child  —  who  did  not  know  exactly  what  telling 
a  real  lie  meant,  still  less  how  to  steal.  They 
were  content  to  spear  their  living  out  of  the 
heart  of  the  bitter,  hopeless  cold ;  to  smile  oily 
smiles,  and  tell  queer  ghost  and  fairy  tales  of 
evenings,  and  eat  till  they  could  eat  no  more, 
and  sing  the  endless  woman's  song,  "Amna  aya, 
aya  amna,  ah !  ah ! "  through  the  long,  lamp- 
lighted  days  as  they  mended  their  clothes  and 
their  hunting-gear. 

But  one  terrible  winter  everything  betrayed 
them.       The    Tununirmiut    returned    from    the 


208  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

yearly  salmon-fishing,  and  made  their  houses  on 
the  early  ice  to  the  north  of  Bylot's  Island,  ready 
to  go  after  the  seal  as  soon  as  the  sea  froze. 
But  it  was  an  early  and  savage  autumn.  All 
through  September  there  were  continuous  gales 
that  broke  up  the  smooth  seal-ice  when  it  was 
only  four  or  five  feet  thick,  and  forced  it  inland, 
and  piled  a  great  barrier,  some  twenty  miles 
broad,  of  lumped  and  ragged  and  needly  ice,  over 
which  it  was  impossible  to  draw  the  dog-sleighs. 
The  edge  of  the  floe  off  which  the  seal  were  used 
to  fish  in  winter  lay,  perhaps,  twenty  miles  beyond 
this  barrier,  and  out  of  reach  of  the  Tununirmiut. 
Even  so,  they  might  have  managed  to  scrape 
through  the  winter  on  their  stock  of  frozen 
salmon  and  stored  blubber,  and  what  the  traps 
gave  them,  but  in  December  one  of  their  hunters 
came  across  a  tupik  (a  skin-tent)  of  three  women 
and  a  girl  nearly  dead,  whose  men  had  come 
down  from  the  far  North  and  been  crushed  in 
their  little  skin  hunting-boats  while  they  were  out 
after  the  long-horned  narwhal.  Kadlu,  of  course, 
could  only  distribute  the  women  among  the  huts 
of  the  winter  village,  for  no  Inuit  dare  refuse 
a  meal  to  a  stranger.  He  never  knows  when  his 
own  turn  may  come  to  beg.  Amoraq  took  the 
girl,  who  was  about  fourteen,  into  her  own  house 


QUIQUERN  209 

as  a  sort  of  servant.  From  the  cut  of  her  sharp- 
pointed  hood,  and  the  long  diamond  pattern  of 
her  white  deerskin  leggings,  they  supposed  she 
came  from  Ellesmere  Land.  She  had  never  seen 
tin  cooking-pots  or  wooden-shod  sleighs  before; 
but  Kotuko  the  boy  and  Kotuko  the  dog  were 
rather  fond  of  her. 

Then  all  the  foxes  went  south,  and  even  the 
wolverine,  that  growling,  blunt-headed  little  thief 
of  the  snow,  did  not  take  the  trouble  to  follow 
the  line  of  empty  traps  that  Kotuko  set.  The 
tribe  lost  a  couple  of  their  best  hunters,  who 
were  badly  crippled  in  a  fight  with  a  musk-ox, 
and  this  threw  more  work  on  the  others.  Ko- 
tuko went  out,  day  after  day,  with  a  light  hunt- 
ing-sleigh and  six  or  seven  of  the  strongest  dogs, 
looking  till  his  eyes  ached  for  some  patch  of  clear 
ice  where  a  seal  might  perhaps  have  scratched  a 
breathing-hole.  Kotuko  the  dog  ranged  far  and 
wide,  and  in  the  dead  stillness  of  the  ice-fields 
Kotuko  the  boy  could  hear  his  half-choked  whine 
of  excitement,  above  a  seal-hole  three  miles 
away,  as  plainly  as  though  he  were  at  his  elbow. 
When  the  dog  found  a  hole  the  boy  would  build 
himself  a  little,  low  snow  wall  to  keep  off  the 
worst  of  the  bitter  wind,  and  there  he  would  wait 
ten,  twelve,  twenty  hours  for  the  seal  to  come  up 


210  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

to  breathe,  his  eyes  glued  to  the  tiny  mark  he 
had  made  above  the  hole  to  guide  the  downward 
thrust  of  his  harpoon,  a  little  sealskin  mat  under 
his  feet,  and  his  legs  tied  together  in  the  tu- 
tareang  (the  buckle  that  the  old  hunters  had 
talked  about).  This  helps  to  keep  a  man's  legs 
from  twitching  as  he  waits  and  waits  and  waits 
for  the  quick-eared  seal  to  rise.  Though  there 
is  no  excitement  in  it,  you  can  easily  believe  that 
the  sitting  still  in  the  buckle  with  the  thermome- 
ter perhaps  forty  degrees  below  zero  is  the  hard- 
est work  an  Inuit  knows.  When  a  seal  was 
caught  Kotuko  the  dog  would  bound  forward, 
his  trace  trailing  behind  him,  and  help  to  pull 
the  body  to  the  sleigh,  where  the  tired  and  hun- 
gry dogs  lay  sullenly  under  the  lee  of  the  broken 
ice. 

A  seal  did  not  go  very  far,  for  each  mouth  in 
the  little  village  had  a  right  to  be  filled,  and 
neither  bone,  hide,  nor  sinew  was  wasted.  The 
dogs'  meat  was  taken  for  human  use,  and  Amoraq 
fed  the  team  with  pieces  of  old  summer  skin- 
tents  raked  out  from  under  the  sleeping-bench, 
and  they  howled  and  howled  again,  and  waked 
to  howl  hungrily.  One  could  tell  by  the  soap- 
stone  lamps  in  the  huts  that  famine  was  near. 
In  good  seasons,  when  blubber  was  plentiful,  the 


QUIQUERN  211 

light  in  the  boat-shaped  lamps  would  be  two 
feet  high  —  cheerful,  oily,  and  yellow.  Now  it 
was  a  bare  six  inches :  Amoraq  carefully  pricked 
down  the  moss  wick  when  an  unwatched  flame 
brightened  for  a  moment,  and  the  eyes  of  all  the 
family  followed  her  hand.  The  horror  of  famine 
up  there  in  the  great  cold  is  not  so  much  dying, 
as  dying  in  the  dark.  All  the  Inuit  dread  the 
dark  that  presses  on  them  without  a  break  for 
six  months  in  each  year ;  and  when  the  lamps 
are  low  in  the  houses  the  minds  of  people  begin 
to  be  shaken  and  confused. 

But  worse  was  to  come. 

The  underfed  dogs  snapped  and  growled  in  the 
passages,  glaring  at  the  cold  stars,  and  snuffing 
into  the  bitter  wind,  night  after  night.  When 
they  stopped  howling  the  silence  fell  down  again 
as  solid  and  as  heavy  as  a  snowdrift  against 
a  door,  and  men  could  hear  the  beating  of  their 
blood  in  the  thin  passages  of  the  ear,  and  the 
thumping  of  their  own  hearts,  that  sounded  as 
loud  as  the  noise  of  sorcerers'  drums  beaten 
across  the  snow.  One  night  Kotuko  the  dog, 
who  had  been  unusually  sullen  in  harness,  leaped 
up  and  pushed  his  head  against  Kotuko's  knee. 
Kotuko  patted  him,  but  the  dog  still  pushed 
blindly  forward,  fawning.     Then  Kadlu  waked, 


212  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

and  gripped  the  heavy  wolf-like  head,  and  stared 
into  the  glassy  eyes.  The  dog  whimpered  and 
shivered  between  Kadlu's  knees.  The  hair  rose 
about  his  neck,  and  he  growled  as  though  a 
stranger  were  at  the  door ;  then  he  barked  joy- 
ously, and  rolled  on  the  ground,  and  bit  at  Ko- 
tuko's  boot  like  a  puppy. 

"What  is  it?"  said  Kotuko ;  for  he  was  be- 
ginning to  be  afraid. 

"The  sickness,"  Kadlu  answered.  "It  is  the 
dog-sickness."  Kotuko  the  dog  lifted  his  nose, 
and  howled  and  howled  again. 

"  I  have  not  seen  this  before.  What  will  he 
do  ?  "  said  Kotuko. 

Kadlu  shrugged  one  shoulder  a  little,  and 
crossed  the  hut  for  his  short  stabbing-harpoon. 
The  big  dog  looked  at  him,  howled  again,  and 
slunk  away  down  the  passage,  while  the  other 
dogs  drew  aside  right  and  left  to  give  him  ample 
room.  When  he  was  out  on  the  snow  he  barked 
furiously,  as  though  on  the  trail  of  a  musk-ox, 
and,  barking  and  leaping  and  frisking,  passed 
out  of  sight.  This  was  not  hydrophobia,  but 
simple,  plain  madness.  The  cold  and  the  hunger, 
and,  above  all,  the  dark,  had  turned  his  head ; 
and  when  the  terrible  dog-sickness  once  shows 
itself  in  a  team,   it  spreads  like  wildfire.     Next 


QUIQUERN  213 

hunting-day  another  dog  sickened,  and  was  killed 
then  and  there  by  Kotuko  as  he  bit  and  struggled 
among  the  traces.  Then  the  black  second  dog, 
who  had  been  the  leader  in  the  old  days,  sud- 
denly gave  tongue  on  an  imaginary  reindeer- 
track,  and  when  they  slipped  him  from  the  pitu 
he  flew  at  the  throat  of  an  ice-cliff,  and  ran  away 
as  his  leader  had  done,  his  harness  on  his  back. 
After  that  no  one  would  take  the  dogs  out  again. 
They  needed  them  for  something  else,  and  the 
dogs  knew  it ;  and  though  they  were  tied  down 
and  fed  by  hand,  their  eyes  were  full  of  despair 
and  fear.  To  make  things  worse,  the  old  women 
began  to  tell  ghost-tales,  and  to  say  that  they  had 
met  the  spirits  of  the  dead  hunters  lost  that 
autumn,  who  prophesied  all  sorts  of  horrible 
things. 

Kotuko  grieved  more  for  the  loss  of  his  dog 
than  anything  else ;  for,  though  an  Inuit  eats 
enormously,  he  also  knows  how  to  starve.  But 
the  hunger,  the  darkness,  the  cold,  and  the  ex- 
posure told  on  his  strength,  and  he  began  to 
hear  voices  inside  his  head,  and  to  see  people 
who  were  not  there,  out  of  the  tail  of  his  eye. 
One  night  —  he  had  unbuckled  himself  after  ten 
hours'  waiting  above  a  "blind"  seal-hole,  and 
was  staggering  back  to  the  village  faint  and  dizzy 


214  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

—  he  halted  to  lean  his  back  against  a  boulder 
which  happened  to  be  supported  like  a  rocking- 
stone  on  a  single  jutting  point  of  ice.  His  weight 
disturbed  the  balance  of  the  thing,  it  rolled  over 
ponderously,  and  as  Kotuko  sprang  aside  to 
avoid  it,  slid  after  him,  squeaking  and  hissing  on 
the  ice  slope. 

That  was  enough  for  Kotuko.  He  had  been 
brought  up  to  believe  that  every  rock  and  boulder 
had  its  owner  (its  imia),  who  was  generally  a 
one-eyed  kind  of  a  Woman -Thing  called  a  tornaq, 
and  that  when  a  tornaq  meant  to  help  a  man  she 
rolled  after  him  inside  her  stone  house,  and  asked 
him  whether  he  would  take  her  for  a  guardian 
spirit.  (In  summer  thaws  the  ice-propped  rocks 
and  boulders  roll  and  slip  all  over  the  face  of  the 
land,  so  you  can  easily  see  how  the  idea  of  live 
stones  arose.)  Kotuko  heard  the  blood  beating 
in  his  ears  as  he  had  heard  it  all  day,  and  he 
thought  that  was  the  tornaq  of  the  stone  speak- 
ing to  him.  Before  he  reached  home  he  was 
quite  certain  that  he  had  held  a  long  conversation 
with  her,  and  as  all  his  people  believed  that  this 
was  quite  possible,  no  one  contradicted  him. 

"  She  said  to  me,  '  I  jump  down,  I  jump  down 
from  my  place  on  the  snow,'  "  cried  Kotuko,  with 
hollow  eyes,  leaning  forward  in  the  half-lighted 


QUIQUERN  215 

hut.  "She  said,  'I  will  be  a  guide.'  She  says, 
'  I  will  guide  you  to  the  good  seal-holes.'  To- 
morrow I  go  out,  and  the  tornaq  will  guide  me." 

Then  the  angekok,  the  village  sorcerer,  came  in, 
and  Kotuko  told  him  the  tale  a  second  time.  It 
lost  nothing  in  the  telling. 

"Follow  the  tornait  [the  spirits  of  the  stones], 
and  they  will  bring  us  food  again,"  said  the 
angekok. 

Now  the  girl  from  the  North  had  been  lying 
near  the  lamp,  eating  very  little  and  saying  less 
for  days  past ;  but  when  Amoraq  and  Kadlu  next 
morning  packed  and  lashed  a  little  hand-sleigh 
for  Kotuko,  and  loaded  it  with  his  hunting-gear 
and  as  much  blubber  and  frozen  seal-meat  as 
they  could  spare,  she  took  the  pulling-rope,  and 
stepped  out  boldly  at  the  boy's  side. 

"Your  house  is  my  house,"  she  said,  as  the 
little  bone-shod  sleigh  squeaked  and  bumped 
behind  them  in  the  awful  Arctic  nicrht. 

"My  house  is  your  house,"  said  Kotuko; 
"but  /  think  that  we  shall  both  go  to  Sedna 
together." 

Now  Sedna  is  the  Mistress  of  the  Under-world, 
and  the  Inuit  believe  that  every  one  who  dies 
must  spend  a  year  in  her  horrible  country  before 
going  to  Quadliparmiut,  the  Happy  Place,  where 


216  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

it  never  freezes  and  the  fat  reindeer  trot  up  when 
you  call. 

Through  the  village  people  were  shouting: 
"  The  tornait  have  spoken  to  Kotuko.  They  will 
show  him  open  ice.  He  will  bring  us  the  seal 
again!"  Their  voices  were  soon  swallowed  up  by 
the  cold,  empty  dark,  and  Kotuko  and  the  girl 
shouldered  close  together  as  they  strained  on 
the  pulling-rope  or  humored  the  sleigh  through 
the  broken  ice  in  the  direction  of  the  Polar  Sea. 
Kotuko  insisted  that  the  tornaq  of  the  stone  had 
told  him  to  go  north,  and  north  they  went  under 
Tuktuqdjung  the  Reindeer  —  those  stars  that  we 
call  the  Great  Bear. 

No  European  could  have  made  five  miles  a  day 
over  the  ice-rubbish  and  the  sharp-edged  drifts; 
but  those  two  knew  exactly  the  turn  of  the  wrist 
that  coaxes  a  sleigh  round  a  hummock,  the  jerk 
that  neatly  lifts  it  out  of  an  ice-crack,  and  the  ex- 
act strength  that  goes  to  the  few  quiet  strokes  of 
the  spear-head  that  make  a  path  possible  when 
everything  looks  hopeless. 

The  girl  said  nothing,  but  bowed  her  head,  and 
the  lone  wolverine-fur  fringe  of  her  ermine  hood 
blew  across  her  broad,  dark  face.  The  sky  above 
them  was  an  intense  velvety-black,  changing  to 
bands  of  Indian  red  on  the  horizon,  where  the 


QUIQUERN  217 

great  stars  burned  like  street  lamps.  From  time 
to  time  a  greenish  wave  of  the  Northern  Lights 
would  roll  across  the  hollow  of  the  high  heavens, 
flick  like  a  flag,  and  disappear ;  or  a  meteor 
would  crackle  from  darkness  to  darkness,  trailing 
a  shower  of  sparks  behind.  Then  they  could  see 
the  ridged  and  furrowed  surface  of  the  floe  tipped 
and  laced  with  strange  colors  —  red,  copper,  and 
bluish;  but  in  the  ordinary  starlight  everything 
turned  to  one  frost-bitten  gray.  The  floe,  as 
you  will  remember,  had  been  battered  and  tor- 
mented by  the  autumn  gales  till  it  was  one  frozen 
earthquake.  There  were  gullies  and  ravines, 
and  holes  like  gravel-pits,  cut  in  ice;  lumps  and 
scattered  pieces  frozen  down  to  the  original  floor 
of  the  floe ;  blotches  of  old  black  ice  that  had 
been  thrust  under  the  floe  in  some  gale  and 
heaved  up  again  ;  roundish  boulders  of  ice  ;  saw- 
like edges  of  ice  carved  by  the  snow  that  flies 
before  the  wind;  and  sunken  pits  where  thirty  or 
forty  acres  lay  below  the  level  of  the  rest  of  the 
field.  From  a  little  distance  you  might  have 
taken  the  lumps  for  seal  or  walrus,  overturned 
sleighs  or  men  on  a  hunting  expedition,  or  even 
the  great  Ten-legged  White  Spirit-Bear  himself; 
but  in  spite  of  these  fantastic  shapes,  all  on  the 
very  edge  of  starting  into  life,  there  was  neither 


218  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

sound  nor  the  least  faint  echo  of  sound.  And 
through  this  silence  and  through  this  waste,  where 
the  sudden  lights  flapped  and  went  out  again, 
the  sleigh  and  the  two  that  pulled  it  crawled 
like  things'  in  a  nightmare  —  a  nightmare  of  the 
end  of  the  world  at  the  end  of  the  world. 

When  they  were  tired  Kotuko  would  make  what 
the  hunters  call  a  "  half-house,"  a  very  small  snow 
hut,  into  which  they  would  huddle  with  the  travel- 
ing-lamp, and  try  to  thaw  out  the  frozen  seal- 
meat.  When  they  had  slept  the  march  began 
again  —  thirty  miles  a  day  to  get  ten  miles  north- 
ward. The  girl  was  always  very  silent,  but 
Kotuko  muttered  to  himself  and  broke  out  into 
songs  he  had  learned  in  the  Singing- House  — 
summer  songs,  and  reindeer  and  salmon  songs 
—  all  horribly  out  of  place  at  that  season.  He 
would  declare  that  he  heard  the  tomaq  growling 
to  him,  and  would  run  wildly  up  a  hummock,  toss- 
ing his  arms  and  speaking  in  loud,  threatening 
tones.  To  tell  the  truth,  Kotuko  was  very  nearly 
crazy  for  the  time  being ;  but  the  girl  was  sure 
that  he  was  being  guided  by  his  guardian  spirit, 
and  that  everything  would  come  right.  She  was 
not  surprised,  therefore,  when  at  the  end  of  the 
fourth  march  Kotuko,  whose  eyes  were  burning 
like  fire-balls  in  his  head,  told  her  that  his  tomaq 


QUIQUERN  219 

was  following-  them  across  the  snow  in  the  shape 
of  a  two-headed  dog.  The  girl  looked  where 
Kotuko  pointed,  and  something  seemed  to  slip 
into  a  ravine.  It  was  certainly  not  human,  but 
everybody  knew  that  the  tornait  preferred  to 
appear  in  the  shape  of  bear  and  seal,  and  such 
like. 

It  might  have  been  the  Ten-legged  White 
Spirit- Bear  himself,  or  it  might  have  been  any- 
thing, for  Kotuko  and  the  girl  were  so  starved 
that  their  eyes  were  untrustworthy.  They  had 
trapped  nothing,  and  seen  no  trace  of  game  since 
they  had  left  the  village ;  their  food  would  not 
hold  out  for  another  week,  and  there  was  a  gale 
coming.  A  Polar  storm  can  blow  for  ten  days 
without  a  break,  and  all  that  while  it  is  certain 
death  to  be  abroad.  Kotuko  laid  up  a  snow- 
house  large  enough  to  take  in  the  hand-sleigh 
(never  be  separated  from  your  meat),  and  while 
he  was  shaping  the  last  irregular  block  of  ice 
that  makes  the  key-stone  of  the  roof,  he  saw 
a  Thing  looking  at  him  from  a  little  cliff  of  ice 
half  a  mile  away.  The  air  was  hazy,  and  the 
Thing  seemed  to  be  forty  feet  long  and  ten  feet 
high,  with  twenty  feet  of  tail  and  a  shape  that 
quivered  all  along  the  outlines.  The  girl  saw 
it  too,  but  instead   of  crying  aloud  with  terror, 


220  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

said  quietly,   "That  is  Ouiquern.      What  comes 
after?" 

"  He  will  speak  to  me,"  said  Kotuko;  but  the 
snow-knife  trembled  in  his  hand  as  he  spoke,  be- 
cause however  much  a  man  may  believe  that  he 
is  a  friend  of  strange  and  ugly  spirits,  he  seldom 
likes  to  be  taken  quite  at  his  word.  Ouiquern, 
too,  is  the  phantom  of  a  gigantic  toothless  dog 
without  any  hair,  who  is  supposed  to  live  in 
the  far  North,  and  to  wander  about  the  country 
just  before  things  are  going  to  happen.  They 
may  be  pleasant  or  unpleasant  things,  but  not 
even  the  sorcerers  care  to  speak  about  Ouiquern. 
He  makes  the  dogs  go  mad.  Like  the  Spirit- 
Bear  he  has  several  extra  pairs  of  legs, —  six  or 
eight, —  and  this  Thing  jumping  up  and  down  in 
the  haze  had  more  legs  than  any  real  dog  needed. 
Kotuko  and  the  girl  huddled  into  their  hut 
quickly.  Of  course  if  Ouiquern  had  wanted  them, 
he  could  have  torn  it  to  pieces  above  their  heads, 
but  the  sense  of  a  foot-thick  snow  wall  between 
themselves  and  the  wicked  dark  was  great  com- 
fort. The  gale  broke  with  a  shriek  of  wind  like 
the  shriek  of  a  train,  and  for  three  days  and  three 
nights  it  held,  never  varying  one  point,  and  never 
lulling  even  for  a  minute.  They  fed  the  stone 
lamp  between  their  knees,  and  nibbled  at  the  half- 


QUIQUERN  221 

warm  seal-meat,  and  watched  the  black  soot 
gather  on  the  roof  for  seventy -two  long  hours. 
The  girl  counted  up  the  food  in  the  sleigh ;  there 
was  not  more  than  two  days'  supply,  and  Kotuko 
looked  over  the  iron  heads  and  the  deer-sinew 
fastenings  of  his  harpoon  and  his  seal-lance  and 
his  bird-dart.     There  was  nothing  else  to  do. 

"We  shall  go  to  Sedna  soon  —  very  soon," 
the  girl  whispered.  "In  three  days  we  shall  lie 
down  and  go.  Will  your  tornaq  do  nothing? 
Sing  her  an  angekok's  song  to  make  her  come 
here." 

He  began  to  sing  in  the  high-pitched  howl  of 
the  magic  songs,  and  the  gale  went  down  slowly. 
In  the  middle  of  his  song  the  girl  started,  laid  her 
mittened  hand  and  then  her  head  to  the  ice  floor 
of  the  hut.  Kotuko  followed  her  example,  and 
the  two  kneeled,  staring  into  each  other's  eyes, 
and  listening  with  every  nerve.  He  ripped  a 
thin  sliver  of  whalebone  from  the  rim  of  a  bird- 
snare  that  lay  on  the  sleigh,  and,  after  straighten- 
ing, set  it  upright  in  a  little  hole  in  the  ice, 
firming  it  down  with  his  mitten.  It  was  almost 
as  delicately  adjusted  as  a  compass-needle,  and 
now  instead  of  listening  they  watched.  The  thin 
rod  quivered  a  little  —  the  least  little  jar  in  the 
world ;  then  it  vibrated  steadily  for  a  few  seconds, 


222  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

came  to  rest,  and  vibrated  again,  this  time  nod- 
ding to  another  point  of  the  compass. 

"Too  soon  !"  said  Kotuko.  "Some  big  floe 
has  broken  far  away  outside." 

The  girl  pointed  at  the  rod,  and  shook  her  head. 
"  It  is  the  big  breaking,"  she  said.  "  Listen  to  the 
ground-ice.      It  knocks." 

When  they  kneeled  this  time  they  heard  the 
most  curious  muffled  grunts  and  knockings,  ap- 
parently under  their  feet.  Sometimes  it  sounded 
as  though  a  blind  puppy  were  squeaking  above 
the  lamp ;  then  as  if  a  stone  were  being  ground 
on  hard  ice ;  and  again,  like  muffled  blows  on  a 
drum :  but  all  dragged  out  and  made  small,  as 
though  they  traveled  through  a  little  horn  a  weary 
distance  away. 

"We  shall  not  go  to  Sedna  lying  down,"  said 
Kotuko.  "  It  is  the  breaking.  The  tornaq  has 
cheated  us.     We  shall  die." 

All  this  may  sound  absurd  enough,  but  the  two 
were  face  to  face  with  a  very  real  danger.  The 
three  days'  gale  had  driven  the  deep  water  of 
Baffin's  Bay  southerly,  and  piled  it  on  to  the 
edge  of  the  far-reaching  land-ice  that  stretches 
from  Bylot's  Island  to  the  west.  Also,  the  strong 
current  which  sets  east  out  of  Lancaster  Sound  car- 
ried with  it  mile  upon  mile  of  what  they  call  pack- 


QUIQUERN  223 

ice  —  rough  ice  that  has  not  frozen  into  fields ; 
and  this  pack  was  bombarding  the  floe  at  the 
same  time  that  the  swell  and  heave  of  the  storm- 
worked  sea  was  weakening  and  undermining  it. 
What  Kotuko  and  the  girl  had  been  listening  to 
were  the  faint  echoes  of  that  fight  thirty  or  forty 
miles  away,  and  the  little  telltale  rod  quivered  to 
the  shock  of  it. 

Now,  as  the  Inuit  say,  when  the  ice  once 
wakes  after  its  long  winter  sleep,  there  is  no 
knowing  what  may  happen,  for  solid  floe-ice 
changes  shape  almost  as  quickly  as  a  cloud.  The 
gale  was  evidently  a  spring  gale  sent  out  of  time, 
and  anything  was  possible. 

Yet  the  two  were  happier  in  their  minds  than 
before.  If  the  floe  broke  up  there  would  be  no 
more  waiting  and  suffering.  Spirits,  goblins, 
and  witch-people  were  moving  about  on  the 
racking  ice,  and  they  might  find  themselves  step- 
ping into  Sedna's  country  side  by  side  with  all 
sorts  of  wild  Things,  the  flush  of  excitement  still 
on  them.  When  they  left  the  hut  after  the  gale, 
the  noise  on  the  horizon  was  steadily  growing, 
and  the  tough  ice  moaned  and  buzzed  all  round 
them. 

"It  is  still  waiting,"  said  Kotuko. 

On  the  top  of  a  hummock  sat  or  crouched  the 


324  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

eight-legged  Thing  that  they  had  seen  three  days 
before  —  and  it  howled  horribly. 

"  Let  us  follow,"  said  the  girl.  "  It  may  know 
some  way  that  does  not  lead  to  Sedna  " ;  but  she 
reeled  from  weakness  as  she  took  the  pulling- 
rope.  The  Thing  moved  off  slowly  and  clumsily 
across  the  ridges,  heading  always  toward  the 
westward  and  the  land,  and  they  followed,  while 
the  growling  thunder  at  the  edge  of  the  floe 
rolled  nearer  and  nearer.  The  floe's  lip  was  split 
and  cracked  in  every  direction  for  three  or  four 
miles  inland,  and  great  pans  of  ten-foot-thick 
ice,  from  a  few  yards  to  twenty  acres  square,  were 
jolting  and  ducking  and  surging  into  one  an- 
other, and  into  the  yet  unbroken  floe,  as  the 
heavy  swell  took  and  shook  and  spouted  between 
them.  This  battering-ram  ice  was,  so  to  speak, 
the  first  army  that  the  sea  was  flinging  against 
the  floe.  The  incessant  crash  and  jar  of  these 
cakes  almost  drowned  the  ripping  sound  of  sheets 
of  pack-ice  driven  bodily  under  the  floe  as 
cards  are  hastily  pushed  under  a  table-cloth. 
Where  the  water  was  shallow  these  sheets  would 
be  piled  one  atop  of  the  other  till  the  bottom- 
most touched  mud  fifty  feet  down,  and  the  dis- 
colored sea  banked  behind  the  muddy  ice  till  the 
increasing  pressure  drove  all  forward  again.      In 


QUIQUERN  225 

addition"  to  the  floe  and  the  pack-ice,  the  gale 
and  the  currents  were  bringing  down  true  bergs, 
sailing  mountains  of  ice,  snapped  off  from  the 
Greenland  side  of  the  water  or  the  north  shore 
of  Melville  Bay.  They  pounded  in  solemnly, 
the  waves  breaking  white  round  them,  and  ad- 
vanced on  the  floe  like  an  old-time  fleet  under 
full  sail.  A  berg  that  seemed  ready  to  carry 
the  world  before  it  would  ground  helplessly  in 
deep  water,  reel  over,  and  wallow  in  a  lather  of 
foam  and  mud  and  flying  frozen  spray,  while  a 
much  smaller  and  lower  one  would  rip  and  ride 
into  the  flat  floe,  flinging  tons  of  ice  on  either 
side,  and  cutting  a  track  half  a  mile  long  before  it 
was  stopped.  Some  fell  like  swords,  shearing 
a  raw-edged  canal ;  and  others  splintered  into  a 
shower  of  blocks,  weighing  scores  of  tons  apiece, 
that  whirled  and  skirled  among  the  hummocks. 
Others,  again,  rose  up  bodily  out  of  the  water 
when  they  shoaled,  twisted  as  though  in  pain,  and 
fell  solidly  on  their  sides,  while  the  sea  threshed 
over  their  shoulders.  This  trampling  and  crowd- 
ing and  bending  and  buckling  and  arching  of  the 
ice  into  every  possible  shape  was  going  on  as 
far  as  the  eye  could  reach  all  along  the  north  line 
of  the  floe.  From  where  Kotuko  and  the  girl 
were  the  confusion  looked  no  more  than  an  un- 


226  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

easy,  rippling,  crawling  movement  under  the  hori- 
zon ;  but  it  came  toward  them  each  moment,  and 
they  could  hear,  far  away  to  landward,  a  heavy 
booming,  as  it  might  have  been  the  boom  of  ar- 
tillery through  a  fog.  That  showed  that  the  floe 
was  being  jammed  home  against  the  iron  cliffs 
of  Bylot's  Island,  the  land  to  the  southward  be- 
hind them. 

"This  has  never  been  before,"  said  Kotuko, 
staring  stupidly.  "This  is  not  the  time.  How 
can  the  floe  break  now  ?  " 

"Follow  that!"  the  girl  cried,  pointing  to  the 
Thing,  half  limping,  half  running  distractedly  be- 
fore them.  They  followed,  tugging  at  the  hand- 
sleigh,  while  nearer  and  nearer  came  the  roaring 
march  of  the  ice.  At  last  the  fields  round  them 
cracked  and  starred  in  every  direction,  and  the 
cracks  opened  and  snapped  like  the  teeth  of 
wolves.  But  where  the  Thing  rested,  on  a  mound 
of  old  and  scattered  ice-blocks  some  fifty  feet 
high,  there  was  no  motion.  Kotuko  leaped  for- 
ward wildly,  dragging  the  girl  after  him,  and 
crawled  to  the  bottom  of  the  mound.  The  talk- 
ing of  the  ice  grew  louder  and  louder  round 
them,  but  the  mound  stayed  fast,  and,  as  the  girl 
looked  at  him,  he  threw  his  right  elbow  upward 
and  outward,  making  the  Inuit  sign  for  land  in 


QUIQUERN  227 

the  shape  of  an  island.  And  land  it  was  that  the 
eight-legged,  limping  Thing  had  led  them  to  — 
some  granite-tipped,  sand-beached  islet  off  the 
coast,  shod  and  sheathed  and  masked  with  ice  so 
that  no  man  could  have  told  it  from  the  floe,  but 
at  the  bottom  solid  earth,  and  not  shifting  ice! 
The  smashing  and  rebound  of  the  floes  as  they 
grounded  and  splintered  marked  the  borders  of 
it,  and  a  friendly  shoal  ran  out  to  the  northward, 
and  turned  aside  the  rush  of  the  heaviest  ice,  ex- 
actly as  a  ploughshare  turns  over  loam.  There 
was  danger,  of  course,  that  some  heavily  squeezed 
ice-field  might  shoot  up  the  beach,  and  plane  off 
the  top  of  the  islet  bodily ;  but  that  did  not 
trouble  Kotuko  and  the  girl  when  they  made  their 
snow-house  and  began  to  eat,  and  heard  the 
ice  hammer  and  skid  along  the  beach.  The 
Thing  had  disappeared,  and  Kotuko  was  talking 
excitedly  about  his  power  over  spirits  as  he 
crouched  round  the  lamp.  In  the  middle  of  his 
wild  sayings  the  girl  began  to  laugh,  and  rock 
herself  backward  and  forward. 

Behind  her  shoulder,  crawling  into  the  hut 
crawl  by  crawl,  there  were  two  heads,  one  yel- 
low and  one  black,  that  belonged  to  two  of  the 
most  sorrowful  and  ashamed  dogs  that  ever  you 
saw.      Kotuko  the  dog  was  one,   and  the  black 


228  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

leader  was  the  other.  Both  were  now  fat,  well- 
looking,  and  quite  restored  to  their  proper 
minds,  but  coupled  to  each  other  in  an  extra- 
ordinary fashion.  When  the  black  leader  ran 
off,  you  remember,  his  harness  was  still  on  him. 
He  must  have  met  Kotuko  the  dog,  and  played 
or  fought  with  him,  for  his  shoulder-loop  had 
caught  in  the  plaited  copper  wire  of  Kotuko's 
collar,  and  had  drawn  tight,  so  that  neither  could 
get  at  the  trace  to  gnaw  it  apart,  but  each  was 
fastened  sidelong  to  his  neighbor's  neck.  That, 
with  the  freedom  of  hunting  on  their  own  ac- 
count, must  have  helped  to  cure  their  madness. 
They  were  very  sober. 

The  girl  pushed  the  two  shamefaced  creatures 
toward  Kotuko,  and,  sobbing  with  laughter,  cried, 
"  That  is  Quiquern,  who  led  us  to  safe  ground. 
Look  at  his  eight  legs  and  double  head !  " 

Kotuko  cut  them  free,  and  they  fell  into  his 
arms,  yellow  and  black  together,  trying  to  ex- 
plain how  they  had  got  their  senses  back  again. 
Kotuko  ran  a  hand  down  their  ribs,  which  were 
round  and  well  clothed.  "  They  have  found 
food,"  he  said,  with  a  grin.  "  I  do  not  think  we 
shall  go  to  Sedna  so  soon.  My  tornaq  sent 
these.     The  sickness  has  left  them." 

As   soon   as  they  had  greeted  Kotuko,  these 


QUIQUERN  229 

two,  who  had  been  forced  to  sleep  and  eat  and 
hunt  together  for  the  past  few  weeks,  flew  at 
each  other's  throat,  and  there  was  a  beautiful 
battle  in  the  snow-house.  "  Empty  dogs  do  not 
fight,"  Kotuko  said.  "  They  have  found  the  seal. 
Let  us  sleep.     We  shall  find  food." 

When  they  waked  there  was  open  water  on 
the  north  beach  of  the  island,  and  all  the  loos- 
ened ice  had  been  driven  landward.  The  first 
sound  of  the  surf  is  one  of  the  most  delightful 
that  the  Inuit  can  hear,  for  it  means  that  spring 
is  on  the  road.  Kotuko  and  the  girl  took  hold 
of  hands  and  smiled,  for  the  clear,  full  roar  of 
the  surge  among  the  ice  reminded  them  of  sal- 
mon and  reindeer  time  and  the  smell  of  blossom- 
ing ground-willows.  Even  as  they  looked,  the 
sea  began  to  skim  over  between  the  floating 
cakes  of  ice,  so  intense  was  the  cold ;  but  on 
the  horizon  there  was  a  vast  red  glare,  and 
that  was  the  light  of  the  sunken  sun.  It  was 
more  like  hearing  him  yawn  in  his  sleep  than 
seeing  him  rise,  and  the  glare  only  lasted  for 
a  few  minutes,  but  it  marked  the  turn  of  the 
year.      Nothing,   they  felt,   could  alter  that. 

Kotuko  found  the  dogs  fighting  over  a  fresh- 
killed  seal  who  was  following  the  fish  that  a 
gale  always  disturbs.      He  was  the  first  of  some 


230  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE  BOOK 

twenty  or  thirty  seal  that  landed  on  the  island 
in  the  course  of  the  day,  and  till  the  sea  froze 
hard  there  were  hundreds  of  keen  black  heads 
rejoicing  in  the  shallow  free  water  and  floating 
about  with  the  floating  ice. 

It  was  good  to  eat  seal-liver  again  ;  to  fill  the 
lamps  recklessly  with  blubber,  and  watch  the 
flame  blaze  three  feet  in  the  air ;  but  as  soon  as 
the  new  sea-ice  bore,  Kotuko  and  the  girl  loaded 
the  hand-sleigh,  and  made  the  two  dogs  pull  as 
they  had  never  pulled  in  their  lives,  for  they  feared 
what  might  have  happened  in  their  village.  The 
weather  was  as  pitiless  as  usual;  but  it  is  easier 
to  draw  a  sleigh  loaded  with  good  food  than 
to  hunt  starving.  They  left  five-and-twenty  seal 
carcasses  buried  in  the  ice  of  the  beach,  all  ready 
for  use,  and  hurried  back  to  their  people.  The 
dogs  showed  them  the  way  as  soon  as  Kotuko 
told  them  what  was  expected,  and  though  there 
was  no  sign  of  a  landmark,  in  two  days  they  were 
giving  tongue  outside  Kadlu's  house.  Only  three 
dogs  answered  them ;  the  others  had  been  eaten, 
and  the  houses  were  all  dark.  But  when  Kotuko 
shouted,  "  Ojo  !  "  (boiled  meat),  weak  voices  re- 
plied, and  when  he  called  the  muster  of  the  vil- 
lage name  by  name,  very  distinctly,  there  were 
no  gaps  in  it. 

An   hour  later  the   lamps   blazed    in    Kadlu's 


QUIQUERN  231 

house ;  snow-water  was  heating ;  the  pots  were 
beginning  to  simmer,  and  the  snow  was  dripping 
from  the  roof,  as  Amoraq  made  ready  a  meal  for 
all  the  village,  and  the  boy-baby  in  the  hood 
chewed  at  a  strip  of  rich  nutty  blubber,  and 
the  hunters  slowly  and  methodically  filled  them- 
selves to  the  very  brim  with  seal-meat.  Kotuko 
and  the  orirl  told  their  tale.  The  two  dogs  sat 
between  them,  and  whenever  their  names  came 
in,  they  cocked  an  ear  apiece  and  looked  most 
thoroughly  ashamed  of  themselves.  A  dog  who 
has  once  gone  mad  and  recovered,  the  Inuit  say, 
is  safe  against  all  further  attacks. 

"  So  the  tornaq  did  not  forget  us,"  said  Kotuko. 
"The  storm  blew,  the  ice  broke,  and  the  seal 
swam  in  behind  the  fish  that  were  frightened  by 
the  storm.  Now  the  new  seal-holes  are  not  two 
days'  distant.  Let  the  good  hunters  go  to-mor- 
row and  bring  back  the  seal  I  have  speared  — 
twenty-five  seal  buried  in  the  ice.  When  we  have 
eaten  those  we  will  all  follow  the  seal  on  the  floe." 

"  What  do  you  do  ?  "  said  the  sorcerer  in  the 
same  sort  of  voice  as  he  used  to  Kadlu,  richest  of 
the  Tununirmiut. 

Kotuko  looked  at  the  girl  from  the  North,  and  said 
quietly,  "  We  build  a  house."  He  pointed  to  the 
northwest  side  of  Kadlu's  house,  for  that  is  the  side 
on  which  the  married  son  or  daughter  always  lives. 


232  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

The  girl  turned  her  hands  palm  upward,  with 
a  little  despairing  shake  of  her  head.  She  was  a 
foreigner,  picked  up  starving,  and  could  bring 
nothing  to  the  housekeeping. 

Amoraq  jumped  from  the  bench  where  she  sat, 
and  began  to  sweep  things  into  the  girl's  lap  — 
stone  lamps,  iron  skin-scrapers,  tin  kettles,  deer- 
skins embroidered  with  musk-ox  teeth,  and  real 
canvas-needles  such  as  sailors  use  —  the  finest 
dowry  that  has  ever  been  given  on  the  far  edge 
of  the  Arctic  Circle,  and  the  girl  from  the  North 
bowed  her  head  down  to  the  very  floor. 

"  Also  these  !  "  said  Kotuko,  laughing  and  sign- 
ing to  the  dogs,  who  thrust  their  cold  muzzles 
into  the  girl's  face. 

"Ah,"  said  the  angekok,  with  an  important 
cough,  as  though  he  had  been  thinking1  it  all  over. 
"As  soon  as  Kotuko  left  the  village  I  went  to 
the  Singing- House  and  sang  magic.  I  sang  all 
the  long  nights,  and  called  upon  the  Spirit  of  the 
Reindeer.  My  singing  made  the  gale  blow  that 
broke  the  ice  and  drew  the  two  dogs  toward 
Kotuko  when  the  ice  would  have  crushed  his 
bones.  My  song  drew  the  seal  in  behind  the 
broken  ice.  My  body  lay  still  in  the  quaggi,  but 
my  spirit  ran  about  on  the  ice,  and  guided  Kotuko 
and  the  dogs  in  all  the  things  they  did.     I  did  it." 


QUIQUERN  233 

Everybody  was  full  and  sleepy,  so  no  one  con- 
tradicted ;  and  the  angekok,  by  virtue  of  his 
office,  helped  himself  to  yet  another  lump  of  boiled 
meat,  and  lay  down  to  sleep  with  the  others  in 
the  warm,  well-lighted,  oil-smelling  home. 


Now  Kotuko,  who  drew  very  well  in  the  Inuit 
fashion,  scratched  pictures  of  all  these  adven- 
tures on  a  long,  flat  piece  of  ivory  with  a  hole  at 
one  end.  When  he  and  the  girl  went  north  to 
Ellesmere  Land  in  the  year  of  the  Wonderful  Open 
Winter,  he  left  the  picture-story  with  Kadlu,  who 
lost  it  in  the  shingle  when  his  dog-sleigh  broke 
down  one  summer  on  the  beach  of  Lake  Netil- 
ling  at  Nikosiring,  and  there  a  Lake  Inuit  found 
it  next  spring  and  sold  it  to  a  man  at  Imigen  who 
was  interpreter  on  a  Cumberland  Sound  whaler, 
and  he  sold  it  to  Hans  Olsen,  who  was  afterward 
a  quartermaster  on  board  a  big  steamer  that  took 
tourists  to  the  North  Cape  in  Norway.  When 
the  tourist  season  was  over,  the  steamer  ran  be- 
tween London  and  Australia,  stopping  at  Cey- 
lon, and  there  Olsen  sold  the  ivory  to  a  Cingalese 
jeweler  for  two  imitation  sapphires.  I  found 
it  under  some  rubbish  in  a  house  at  Colombo, 
and  have  translated  it  from  one  end  to  the  other. 


"ANGUTIVUN   TINA" 

[This  is  a  very  free  translation  of  the  Song  of  the  Re- 
turning Hunter,  as  the  men  used  to  sing  it  after  seal- 
spearing.  The  Inuit  always  repeat  things  over  and 
over  again.] 

UR   gloves  are  stiff  with   the  frozen 
blood, 
Our  furs  with  the  drifted 
snow, 
As    we    come    in   with   the 
seal  —  the  seal  ! 
In  from  the  edge  of  the 
/  floe. 

Aujana  !  Aua  !   Oka  /  Haq  ! 

And  the  yelping  dog-teams  go, 
And  the  long  whips  crack,  and  the  men  come  back, 

Back  from  the  edge  of  the  floe  ! 


We  tracked  our  seal  to  his  secret  place, 

We  heard  him  scratch  below, 
We  made  our  mark,  and  we  watched  beside, 

Out  on  the  edge  of  the  floe. 


ANGUTIVUN    TINA  235 

We  raised  our  lance  when  he  rose  to  breathe, 

We  drove  it  downward  —  so  ! 
And  we  played  him  thus,  and  we  killed  him  thus 

Out  on  the  edge  of  the  floe. 

Our  gloves  are  glued  with  the  frozen  blood, 

Our  eyes  with  the  drifting  snow ; 
But  we  come  back  to  our  wives  again, 

Back  from  the  edge  of  the  floe  ! 

Aujana  !  Aua  !   Oha  !  Hag  ! 

And  the  loaded  dog- teams  go, 
And  the  wives  can  hear  their  men  come  back, 
Back  fr 0771  the  edge  of 'the  floe  ! 


RED    DOG 


For  our  white  and  our  excellent  nights  —  for  the  nights  of  swift 
running, 
Fair  ranging,  far-seeing,  good  hunting,  sure  cunning! 
For  the  smells  of  the  dawning,  untainted,  ere  dew  has  departed ! 
For  the  rush  through  the  mist,  and  the  quarry  blind-started  ! 
For  the  cry  of  our  mates  when  the  sambhur  has  wheeled  and  is 
standing  at  bay, 

For  the  risk  and  the  riot  of  night ! 
For  the  sleep  at  the  lair-mouth  by  day. 
It  is  met,  and  we  go  to  the  fight. 
Bay!     O  bay! 


RED  DOG 


jT  was  after  the  letting  in  of  the 
Jungle  that  the  pleasantest  part  of 
Moweli's  life  be^an.  He  had  the 
ofood  conscience  that  comes  from 
paying  debts;  all  the  Jungle  was  his 
friend,  and  just  a  little  afraid  of  him. 
The  things  that  he  did  and  saw 
and  heard  when  he  was  wandering 
from  one  people  to  another,  with 
or  without  his  four  companions, 
would  make  many  stories,  each  as 
long  as  this  one.  So  you  will  never  be  told  how 
he  met  the  Mad  Elephant  of  Mandla,  who  killed 


240  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

two-and-twenty  bullocks  drawing  eleven  carts  of 
coined  silver  to  the  Government  Treasury,  and 
scattered  the  shiny  rupees  in  the  dust ;  how  he 
fought  Jacala,  the  Crocodile,  all  one  long  night 
in  the  Marshes  of  the  North,  and  broke  his  skin- 
ning-knife  on  the  brute's  back-plates;  how  he 
found  a  new  and  longer  knife  round  the  neck 
of  a  man  who  had  been  killed  by  a  wild  boar, 
and  how  he  tracked  that  boar  and  killed  him  as  a 
fair  price  for  the  knife ;  how  he  was  caught  up 
once  in  the  Great  Famine,  by  the  moving  of  the 
deer,  and  nearly  crushed  to  death  in  the  swaying 
hot  herds ;  how  he  saved  Hathi  the  Silent  from 
being  once  more  trapped  in  a  pit  with  a  stake  at 
the  bottom,  and  how,  next  day,  he  himself  fell 
into  a  very  cunning  leopard-trap,  and  how  Hathi 
broke  the  thick  wooden  bars  to  pieces  above  him; 
how  he  milked  the  wild  buffaloes  in  the  swamp, 
and  how  — 

But  we  must  tell  one  tale  at  a  time.  Father 
and  Mother  Wolf  died,  and  Mowgli  rolled  a  big 
boulder  against  the  mouth  of  their  .cave,  and 
cried  the  Death  Song  over  them ;  Baloo  grew 
very  old  and  stiff,  and  even  Bagheera,  whose 
nerves  were  steel,  and  whose  muscles  were  iron, 
was  a  shade  slower  on  the  kill  than  he  had  been. 
Akela  turned  from  gray  to  milky  white  with  pure 


RED  DOG  241 

age  ;  his  ribs  stuck  out,  and  he  walked  as  though 
he  had  been  made  of  wood,  and  Mowgli  killed 
for  him.  But  the  young  wolves,  the  children  of  the 
disbanded  Seeonee  Pack,  throve  and  increased, 
and  when  there  were  about  forty  of  them,  mas- 
terless,  full-voiced,  clean-footed  five-year-olds, 
Akela  told  them  that  they  ought  to  gather  them- 
selves together  and  follow  the  Law,  and  run  un- 
der one  head,  as  befitted  the  Free  People. 

This  was  not  a  question  in  which  Mowgli  con- 
cerned himself,  for,  as  he  said,  he  had  eaten  sour 
fruit,  and  he  knew  the  tree  it  hunsf  from  ;  but 
when  Phao,  son  of  Phaona  (his  father  was  the 
Gray  Tracker  in  the  days  of  Akela's  headship), 
fought  his  way  to  the  leadership  of  the  Pack,  ac- 
cording to  Jungle  Law,  and  the  old  calls  and 
songs  began  to  ring  under  the  stars  once  more, 
Mowgli  came  to  the  Council  Rock  for  memory's 
sake.  When  he  chose  to  speak  the  Pack  waited 
till  he  had  finished,  and  he  sat  at  Akela's  side  on 
the  rock  above  Phao.  Those  were  days  of  good 
hunting  and  good  sleeping.  No  stranger  cared 
to  break  into  the  jungles  that  belonged  to 
Mowgli's  people,  as  they  called  the  Pack,  and 
the  young  wolves  grew  fat  and  strong,  and  there 
were  many  cubs  to  bring  to  the  Looking-over. 
Mowgli    always    attended    a    Looking-over,    re- 


242  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

membering  the  night  when  a  black  panther 
bought  a  naked  brown  baby  into  the  Pack,  and 
the  long  call,  "  Look,  look  well,  O  Wolves," 
made  his  heart  flutter.  Otherwise,  he  would  be 
far  away  in  the  Jungle  with  his  four  brothers, 
tasting,  touching,  seeing,  and  feeling  new  things. 

One  twilight  when  he  was  trotting  leisurely 
across  the  ranges  to  give  Akela  the  half  of  a 
buck  that  he  had  killed,  while  the  Four  jog- 
ged behind  him,  sparring  a  little,  and  tumbling 
one  another  over  for  joy  of  being  alive,  he  heard 
a  cry  that  had  never  been  heard  since  the  bad 
days  of  Shere  Khan.  It  was  what  they  call  in 
the  Jungle  the  pheeal,  a  hideous  kind  of  shriek 
that  the  jackal  gives  when  he  is  hunting  behind 
a  tiger,  or  when  there  is  a  big  killing  afoot.  If 
you  can  imagine  a  mixture  of  hate,  triumph,  fear, 
and  despair,  with  a  kind  of  leer  running  through 
it,  you  will  get  some  notion  of  the  pheeal  that 
rose  and  sank  and  wavered  and  quavered  far  away 
across  the  Waingunga.  The  Four  stopped  at 
once,  bristling  and  growling.  Mowgli's  hand 
went  to  his  knife,  and  he  checked,  the  blood  in 
his  face,  his  eyebrows  knotted. 

"  There  is  no  Striped  One  dare  kill  here,"  he 
said. 

"That  is  not  the  cry  of  the  Forerunner,"  an- 


RED   DOG  243 

swered  Gray  Brother.  "  It  is  some  great  killing. 
Listen ! " 

It  broke  out  again,  half  sobbing  and  half  chuck- 
ling, just  as  though  the  jackal  had  soft  human 
lips.  Then  Mowgli  drew  deep  breath,  and  ran 
to  the  Council  Rock,  overtaking  on  his  way  hur- 
rying wolves  of  the  Pack.  Phao  and  Akela  were 
on  the  Rock  together,  and  below  them,  every 
nerve  strained,  sat  the  others.  The  mothers  and 
the  cubs  were  cantering  off  to  their  lairs ;  for 
when  the  pheeal  cries  it  is  no  time  for  weak 
things  to  be  abroad. 

They  could  hear  nothing  except  the  Wain- 
gunga  rushing  and  gurgling  in  the  dark,  and  the 
light  evening  winds  among  the  tree-tops,  till 
suddenly  across  the  river  a  wolf  called.  It  was 
no  wolf  of  the  Pack,  for  they  were  all  at  the  Rock. 
The  note  changed  to  a  long,  despairing  bay ; 
and  "  Dhole  !  "  it  said,  "  Dhole  !  dhole  !  dhole  !  " 
They  heard  tired  feet  on  the  rocks,  and  a  gaunt, 
wolf,  streaked  with  red  on  his  flanks,  his  right 
fore-paw  useless,  and  his  jaws  white  with  foam, 
flung  himself  into  the  circle  and  lay  gasping  at 
Mowgli's  feet. 

"Good  hunting!  Under  whose  Headship?" 
said  Phao  gravely. 

"  Good  hunting  !    Won-tolla  am  I,"  was  the  an- 


244  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

swer.  He  meant  that  he  was  a  solitary  wolf, 
fending  for  himself,  his  mate,  and  his  cubs  in 
some  lonely  lair,  as  do  many  wolves  in  the  south. 
Won-tolla  means  an  Outlier  —  one  who  lies  out 
from  any  Pack.  Then  he  panted,  and  they  could 
see  his  heart-beats  shake  him  backward  and 
forward. 

"What  moves?"  said  Phao,  for  that  is  the 
question  all  the  Jungle  asks  after  the  phecal  cries. 

"  The  dhole,  the  dhole  of  the  Dekkan  —  Red 
Dog,  the  Killer !  They  came  north  from  the 
south  saying  the  Dekkan  was  empty  and  killing 
out  by  the  way.  When  this  moon  was  new  there 
were  four  to  me  —  my  mate  and  three  cubs.  She 
would  teach  them  to  kill  on  the  grass  plains,  hid- 
ing to  drive  the  buck,  as  we  do  who  are  of  the 
open.  At  midnight  I  heard  them  together,  full 
tongue  0n  the  trail.  At  the  dawn-wind  I  found 
them  stiff  in  the  grass  —  four,  Free  People,  four 
when  this  moon  was  new.  Then  sought  I  my 
Blood-Right  and  found  the  dhole." 

"How  many?"  said  Mowgli  quickly;  the 
Pack  growled  deep  in  their  throats. 

"  I  do  not  know.  Three  of  them  will  kill  no 
more,  but  at  the  last  they  drove  me  like  the  buck  ; 
on  my  three  legs  they  drove  me.  Look,  Free 
People ! " 


RED  DOG  245 

He  thrust  out  his  mangled  fore-foot,  all  dark 
with  dried  blood.  There  were  cruel  bites  low 
down  on  his  side,  and  his  throat  was  torn  and 
worried. 

"Eat,"  said  Akela,  rising  up  from  the  meat 
Mowgli  had  brought  him,  and  the  Outlier  flung 
himself  on  it. 

"This  shall  be  no  loss,"  he  said  humbly,  when 
he  had  taken  off  the  first  edge  of  his  hunger. 
"  Give  me  a  little  strength,  Free  People,  and  I 
also  will  kill.  My  lair  is  empty  that  was  full  when 
this  moon  was  new,  and  the  Blood  Debt  is  not  all 
paid." 

Phao  heard  his  teeth  crack  on  a  haunch-bone 
and  grunted  approvingly. 

"We  shall  need  those  jaws,"  said  he.  "Were 
their  cubs  with  the  dhole  ?  " 

"  Nay,  nay.  Red  Hunters  all :  grown  dogs  of 
their  Pack,  heavy  and  strong,  for  all  that  they  eat 
lizards  in  the  Dekkan." 

What  Won-tolla  had  said  meant  that  the  dhole, 
the  red  hunting-dog  of  the  Dekkan,  was  moving 
to  kill,  and  the  Pack  knew  well  that  even  the 
tiger  will  surrender  a  new  kill  to  the  dhole.  They 
drive  straight  through  the  Jungle,  and  what  they 
meet  they  pull  down  and  tear  to  pieces.  Though 
they  are  not  as  big  nor  half  as  cunning  as  the 


246  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

wolf,  they  are  very  strong  and  very  numerous. 
The  dhole,  for  instance,  do  not  begin  to  call  them- 
selves a  pack  till  they  are  a  hundred  strong ; 
whereas  forty  wolves  make  a  very  fair  pack  in- 
deed. Mowgli's  wanderings  had  taken  him  to 
the  edge  of  the  high  grassy  downs  of  the  Dek- 
kan,  and  he  had  seen  the  fearless  dholes  sleep- 
ing and  playing  and  scratching  themselves  in 
the  little  hollows  and  tussocks  that  they  use 
for  lairs.  He  despised  and  hated  them  because 
they  did  not  smell  like  the  Free  People,  be- 
cause they  did  not  live  in  caves,  and,  above  all, 
because  they  had  hair  between  their  toes  while 
he  and  his  friends  were  clean-footed.  But  he 
knew,  for  Hathi  had  told  him,  what  a  terrible 
thing  a  dhole  hunting-pack  was.  Even  Hathi 
moves  aside  from  their  line,  and  until  they  are 
killed,  or  till  game  is  scarce,  they  will  go  forward. 

Akela  knew  something  of  the  dholes,  too,  for 
he  said  to  Mowgli  quietly  .  "  It  is  better  to  die  in 
a  Full  Pack  than  leaderless  and  alone.  This  is 
good  hunting,  and — my  last.  But,  as  men  live, 
thou  hast  very  many  more  nights  and  days, 
Little  Brother.  Go  north  and  lie  down,  and  if 
any  live  after  the  dhole  has  gone  by  he  shall 
bring-  thee  word  of  the  fight." 

"  Ah,"  said  Mowgli,  quite  gravely,  "must  I  go 


RED  DOG  247 

to  the  marshes  and  catch  little  fish  and  sleep  in  a 
tree,  or  must  I  ask  help  of  the  Bandar-log  and 
crack  nuts,  while  the  Pack  fight  below  ? " 

"  It  is  to  the  death,"  said  Akela.  "  Thou  hast 
never  met  the  dhole  —  the  Red  Killer.  Even  the 
Striped  One  —  " 

"  Aowa  !  Aowa  !  "  said  Mowgli  pettingly.  "  I 
have  killed  one  striped  ape,  and  sure  am  I  in  my 
stomach  that  Shere  Khan  would  have  left  his  own 
mate  for  meat  to  the  dhole  if  he  had  winded  a 
pack  across  three  ranges.  Listen  now :  There 
was  a  wolf,  my  father,  and  there  was  a  wolf,  my 
mother,  and  there  was  an  old  gray  wolf  (not  too 
wise :  he  is  white  now)  was  my  father  and  my 
mother.  Therefore  I — "  he  raised  his  voice,  "  I 
say  that  when  the  dhole  come,  and  if  the  dhole 
come,  Mowgli  and  the  Free  People  are  of  one 
skin  for  that  hunting ;  and  I  say,  by  the  Bull  that 
bought  me  —  by  the  Bull  Bagheera  paid  for  me 
in  the  old  days  which  ye  of  the  Pack  do  not  re- 
member—  /  say,  that  the  Trees  and  the  River 
may  hear  and  hold  fast  if  I  forget ;  I  say  that  this 
my  knife  shall  be  as  a  tooth  to  the  Pack  —  and  I 
do  not  think  it  is  so  blunt.  This  is  my  Word 
which  has  gone  from  me." 

"Thou  dost  not  know  the  dhole,  man  with  a 
wolf's  tongue,"  said  Won-tolla.     "  I  look  only  to 


248  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

clear  the  Blood  Debt  against  them  ere  they  have 
me  in  many  pieces.  They  move  slowly,  killing 
out  as  they  go,  but  in  two  days  a  little  strength 
will  come  back  to  me  and  I  turn  again  for  the 
Blood  Debt.  But  for  ye,  Free  People,  my  word 
is  that  ye  go  north  and  eat  but  little  for  a  while 
till  the  dhole  are  gone.  There  is  no  meat  in  this 
hunting." 

"  Hear  the  Outlier  !  "  said  Mowgli  with  a  laugh. 
"  Free  People,  we  must  go  north  and  dig  lizards 
and  rats  from  the  bank,  lest  by  any  chance  we 
meet  the  dhole.  He  must  kill  out  our  hunting- 
grounds,  while  we  lie  hid  in  the  north  till  it  please 
him  to  give  us  our  own  again.  He  is  a  dog  — 
and  the  pup  of  a  dog  —  red,  yellow-bellied,  lair- 
less,  and  haired  between  every  toe  !  He  counts 
his  cubs  six  and  eio-ht  at  the  litter,  as  though  he 
were  Chikai,  the  little  leaping  rat.  Surely  we 
must  run  away,  Free  People,  and  beg  leave  of  the 
peoples  of  the  north  for  the  offal  of  dead  cattle  ! 
Ye  know  the  saying :  '  North  are  the  vermin  ; 
south  are  the  lice.  We  are  the  Jungle.'  Choose 
ye,  O  choose.  It  is  good  hunting!  For  the  Pack  — 
for  the  Full  Pack  —  for  the  lair  and  the  litter ; 
for  the  in-kill  and  the  out-kill ;  for  the  mate  that 
drives  the  doe  and  the  little,  little  cub  within  the 
cave  ;  it  is  met !  —  it  is  met ! —  it  is  met ! " 


RED   DOG  249 

The  Pack  answered  with  one  deep,  crashing 
bark  that  sounded  in  the  night  like  a  big  tree 
falling.      "  It  is  met !  "  they  cried. 

"  Stay  with  these,"  said  Mowgli  to  the  Four. 
"We  shall  need  every  tooth.  Phao  and  Akela 
must  make  ready  the  battle.  I  go  to  count  the 
dogs." 

"It  is  death!"  Won-tolla  cried,  half  rising. 
"  What  can  such  a  hairless  one  do  against 
the  Red  Dog?  Even  the  Striped  One,  remem- 
ber— " 

"Thou  art  indeed  an  Outlier,"  Mowgli  called 
back;  "  but  we  will  speak  when  the  dholes  are 
dead.     Good  hunting  all !  " 

He  hurried  off  into  the  darkness,  wild  with  ex- 
citement, hardly  looking  where  he  set  foot,  and 
the  natural  consequence  was  that  he  tripped  full 
length  over  Kaa's  great  coils  where  the  python 
lay  watching  a  deer-path  near  the  river. 

" Kssha!  "  said  Kaa  angrily.  "  Is  this  jungle- 
work,  to  stamp  and  tramp  and  undo  a  night's 
hunting  —  when  the  game  are  moving  so  well, 
too?" 

"The  fault  was  mine,"  said  Mowgli,  picking 
himself  up.  "  Indeed  I  was  seeking  thee,  Flat- 
head, but  each  time  we  meet  thou  art  longer  and 
broader  by  the  length  of  my  arm.     There  is  none 


250  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

like  thee  in  the  Jungle,  wise,  old,  strong,  and 
most  beautiful  Kaa." 

"  Now,  whither  does  this  trail  lead  ?  "  Kaa's 
voice  was  gentler.  "  Not  a  moon  since  there  was 
a  -Manling  with  a  knife  threw  stones  at  my  head, 
and  called  me  bad  little  tree-cat  names,  because  I 
lay  asleep  in  the  open." 

"Ay,  and  turned  every  driven  deer  to  all  the 
winds,  and  Mowgli  was  hunting,  and  this  same 
Flathead  was  too  deaf  to  hear  his  whistle,  and 
leave  the  deer- roads  free,"  Mowgli  answered 
composedly,  sitting  down  among  the  painted  coils. 

"  Now  this  same  Manling  comes  with  soft, 
tickling  words  to  this  same  Flathead,  telling  him 
that  he  is  wise  and  strong  and  beautiful,  and 
this  same  old  Flathead  believes  and  makes  a 
place,  thus,  for  this  same  stone-throwing  Manling, 
and  — .  Art  thou  at  ease  now  ?  Could  Ba- 
gheera  give  thee  so  good  a  resting-place  ?  " 

Kaa  had,  as  usual,  made  a  sort  of  soft,  half-ham- 
mock of  himself  under  Mowgli's  weight.  The  boy 
reached  out  in  the  darkness,  and  gathered  in  the 
supple  cable-like  neck  till  Kaa's  head  rested  on 
his  shoulder,  and  then  he  told  him  all  that  had 
happened  in  the  Jungle  that  night. 

"Wise  I  may  be,"  said  Kaa  at  the  end;  "but 
deaf  I  surely  am.     Else  I  should  have  heard  the 


RED  DOG  251 

pheeal.  Small  wonder  the  Eaters  of  Grass  are 
uneasy.      How  many  be  the  dhole  ?  " 

"  I  have  not  yet  seen.  I  came  hot-foot  to  thee. 
Thou  art  older  than  Hathi.  But  oh,  Kaa," — 
here  Mowgli  wriggled  with  sheer  joy, —  "it  will 
be  good  hunting.  Few  of  us  will  see  another 
moon." 

"Dost  thou  strike  in  this?  Remember  thou 
art  a  Man  ;  and  remember  what  Pack  cast  thee 
out.  Let  the  Wolf  look  to  the  Dog.  Thou  art 
a  Man." 

"  Last  year's  nuts  are  this  year's  black  earth," 
said  Mowgli.  "  It  is  true  that  I  am  a  Man,  but 
it  is  in  my  stomach  that  this  night  I  have  said 
that  I  am  a  Wolf.  I  called  the  River  and  the 
Trees  to  remember.  I  am  of  the  Free  People, 
Kaa,  till  the  dhole  has  gone  by." 

"  Free  People,"  Kaa  grunted.  "  Free  thieves  ! 
And  thou  hast  tied  thyself  into  the  death-knot 
for  the  sake  of  the  memory  of  the  dead  wolves? 
This  is  no  good  hunting." 

"  It  is  my  Word  which  I  have  spoken.  The 
Trees  know,  the  River  knows.  Till  the  dhole 
have  gone  by  my  Word  comes  not  back  to  me." 

"Ngsshi  This  changes  all  trails.  I  had 
thought  to  take  thee  away  with  me  to  the  north- 
ern marshes,  but  the  Word  —  even  the  Word  of 


252  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

a  little,  naked,  hairless  manling  —  is  the  Word. 
Now  I,   Kaa,  say  — " 

"  Think  well,  Flathead,  lest  thou  tie  thyself 
into  the  death-knot  also.  I  need  no  Word  from 
thee,  for  well  I  know  — " 

"  Be  it  so,  then,"  said  Kaa.  "  I  will  give  no 
Word ;  but  what  is  in  thy  stomach  to  do  when 
the  dhole  come  ?  " 

"They  must  swim  the  Waingunga.  I  thought 
to  meet  them  with  my  knife  in  the  shallows,  the 
Pack  behind  me ;  and  so  stabbing  and  thrusting 
we  a  little  might  turn  them  down-stream,  or  cool 
their  throats." 

"  The  dhole  do  not  turn  and  their  throats  are 
hot,"  said  Kaa.  "There  will  be  neither  Manling 
nor  Wolf-cub  when  that  hunting  is  done,  but  only 
dry  bones." 

"  Alala!  If  we  die,  we  die.  It  will  be  most 
good  hunting.  But  my  stomach  is  young,  and  I 
have  not  seen  many  Rains.  I  am  not  wise  nor 
strong.     Hast  thou  a  better  plan,  Kaa  ?  " 

"  I  have  seen  a  hundred  and  a  hundred  Rains. 
Ere  Hathi  cast  his  milk-tushes  my  trail  was  big 
in  the  dust.  By  the  First  Egg  I  am  older  than 
many  trees,  and  I  have  seen  all  that  the  Jungle 
has  done." 

"  But    this    is    new    hunting,"    said    Mowgli. 


RED  DOG  253 

"  Never  before  have  the  dhole  crossed  our 
trail." 

"  What  is  has  been.  What  will  be  is  no  more 
than  a  forgotten  year  striking  backward.  Be 
still  while  I  count  those  my  years." 

For  a  long  hour  Mowgli  lay  back  among  the 
coils,  while  Kaa,  his  head  motionless  on  the 
ground,  thought  of  all  that  he  had  seen  and 
known  since  the  dav  he  came  from  the  eg-o-.  The 
light  seemed  to  go  out  of  his  eyes  and  leave  them 
like  stale  opals,  and  now  and  again  he  made  little 
stiff  passes  with  his  head,  right  and  left,  as  though 
he  were  hunting  in  his  sleep.  Mowgli  dozed 
quietly,  for  he  knew  that  there  is  nothing  like 
sleep  before  hunting,  and  he  was  trained  to  take 
it  at  any  hour  of  the  day  or  night. 

Then  he  felt  Kaa's  back  grow  bigger  and 
broader  below  him  as  the  huge  python  puffed  him- 
self out,  hissing  with  the  noise  of  a  sword  drawn 
from  a  steel  scabbard. 

"  I  have  seen  all  the  dead  seasons,"  Kaa  said  at 
last,  "and  the  great  trees  and  the  old  elephants, 
and  the  rocks  that  were  bare  and  sharp-pointed 
ere  the  moss  grew.   Art  thou  still  alive,  Manling?  " 

"  It  is  only  a  little  after  moonset,"  said  Mowgli. 
"  I  do  not  understand — " 

"  Hssh  !  I  am  again  Kaa.     I  knew  it  was  but 


254  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

a  little  time.  Now  we  will  go  to  the  river,  and  I 
will  show  thee  what  is  to  be  done  against  the 
dhole." 

He  turned,  straight  as  an  arrow,  for  the  main 
stream  of  the  Waingunga,  plunging  in  a  little 
above  the  pool  that  hid  the  Peace  Rock,  Mowgli 
at  his  side. 

"  Nay,  do  not  swim.  I  go  swiftly.  My  back, 
Little  Brother ! " 

Mowgli  tucked  his  left  arm  round  Kaa's  neck, 
dropped  his  right  close  to  his  body,  and  straight- 
ened his  feet.  Then  Kaa  breasted  the  current  as 
he  alone  could,  and  the  ripple  of  the  checked 
water  stood  up  in  a  frill  round  Mowgli's  neck,  and 
his  feet  were  waved  to  and  fro  in  the  eddy  under 
the  python's  lashing  sides.  A  mile  or  two  above 
the  Peace  Rock  the  Waingunga  narrows  between 
a  gorge  of  marble  rocks  from  eighty  to  a  hundred 
feet  high,  and  the  current  runs  like  a  mill-race 
between  and  over  all  manner  of  ugly  stones. 
But  Mowgli  did  not  trouble  his  head  about  the 
water;  little  water  in  the  world  could  have  given 
him  a  moment's  fear.  He  was  looking  at  the 
gorge  on  either  side  and  sniffing  uneasily,  for 
there  was  a  sweetish-sourish  smell  in  the  air,  very 
like  the  smell  of  a  big  ant-hill  on  a  hot  day.  In- 
stinctively he  lowered  himself  in  the  water,  only 


RED  DOG  255 

raising  his  head  to  breathe  from  time  to  time, 
and  Kaa  came  to  anchor  with  a  double  twist  of 
his  tail  round  a  sunken  rock,  holding  Mowgli  in 
the  hollow  of  a  coil,  while  the  water  raced  on. 

"This  is  the  Place  of  Death,"  said  the  boy. 
"  Why  do  we  come  here  ?  " 

"  They  sleep,"  said  Kaa.  "  Hathi  will  not  turn 
aside  for  the  Striped  One.  Yet  Hathi  and  the 
Striped  One  together  turn  aside  for  the  dhole, 
and  the  dhole  they  say  turn  aside  for  nothing. 
And  yet  for  whom  do  the  Little  People  of  the 
Rocks  turn  aside  ?  Tell  me,  Master  of  the  Jungle, 
who  is  the  Master  of  the  Jungle  ?" 

"  These,"  Mowgli  whispered.  "  It  is  the  Place 
of  Death.     Let  us  go." 

"  Nay,  look  well,  for  they  are  asleep.  It  is  as 
it  was  when  I  was  not  the  length  of  thy  arm." 

The  split  and  weatherworn  rocks  of  the  gorge 
of  the  Waingunga  had  been  used  since  the  begin- 
ning of  the  Jungle  by  the  Little  People  of  the 
Rocks  —  the  busy,  furious,  black  wild  bees  of 
India ;  and,  as  Mowgli  knew  well,  all  trails  turned 
off  half  a  mile  before  they  reached  the  gorge. 
For  centuries  the  Little  People  had  hived  and 
swarmed  from  cleft  to  cleft,  and  swarmed  again, 
staining  the  white  marble  with  stale  honey,  and 
made  their   combs    tall    and    deep  in    the    dark 


256  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

of  the  inner  caves,  where  neither  man  nor  beast 
nor  fire  nor  water  had  ever  touched  them.  The 
length  of  the  gorge  on  both  sides  was  hung  as  it 
were  with  black  shimmery  velvet  curtains,  and 
Mowgli  sank  as  he  looked,  for  those  were  the 
clotted  millions  of  the  sleeping  bees.  There  were 
other  lumps  and  festoons  and  things  like  decayed 
tree-trunks  studded  on  the  face  of  the  rock,  the 
old  combs  of  past  years,  or  new  cities  built  in  the 
shadow  of  the  windless  gorge,  and  huge  masses 
of  spongy,  rotten  trash  had  rolled  down  and  stuck 
among  the  trees  and  creepers  that  clung  to  the 
rock-face.  As  he  listened  he  heard  more  than 
once  the  rustle  and  slide  of  a  honey-loaded  comb 
turning  over  or  falling  away  somewhere  in  the 
dark  galleries;  then  a  booming  of  angry  wings 
and  the  sullen  drip,  drip,  drip,  of  the  wasted  honey, 
guttering  along  till  it  lipped  over  some  ledge  in 
the  open  air  and  sluggishly  trickled  down  on  the 
twigs.  There  was  a  tiny  little  beach,  not  five 
feet  broad,  on  one  side  of  the  river,  and  that  was 
piled  high  with  the  rubbish  of  uncounted  years. 
There  were  dead  bees,  drones,  sweepings,  and 
stale  combs,  and  wings  of  marauding  moths  that 
had  strayed  in  after  honey,  all  tumbled  in  smooth 
piles  of  the  finest  black  dust.  The  mere  sharp 
smell  of  it  was  enough  to  frighten  anything  that 


RED  DOG  257 

had  no  wings,  and  knew  what  the  Little  People 
were. 

Kaa  moved  up-stream  again  till  he  came  to  a 
sandy  bar  at  the  head  of  the  gorge. 

"  Here  is  this  season's  kill,"  said  he.     "  Look!  " 

On  the  bank  lay  the  skeletons  of  a  couple  of 
young  deer  and  a  buffalo.  Mowgli  could  see  that 
neither  wolf  nor  jackal  had  touched  the  bones, 
which  were  laid  out  naturally. 

"They  came  beyond  the  line:  they  did  not 
know  the  Law,"  murmured  Mowgli,  "and  the  Lit- 
tle People  killed  them.      Let  us  go  ere  they  wake." 

"They  do  not  wrake  till  the  dawn,"  said  Kaa. 
"  Now  I  will  tell  thee.  A  hunted  buck  from  the 
south,  many,  many  Rains  ago,  came  hither  from 
the  south,  not  knowing  the  Jungle,  a  Pack  on  his 
trail.  Being  made  blind  by  fear,  he  leaped  from 
above,  the  Pack  running  by  sight,  for  they  were 
hot  and  blind  on  the  trail.  The  sun  was  high, 
and  the  Little  People  were  many  and  very  angry. 
Many  too  were  those  of  the  Pack  who  leaped 
into  the  Waingunga,  but  they  were  dead  ere  they 
took  water.  Those  who  did  not  leap  died  also  in 
the  rocks  above.     But  the  buck  lived." 

"How?" 

"  Because  he  came  first,  running  for  his  life, 
leaping  ere  the  Little  People  were  aware,  and 


258  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

was  in  the  river  when  they  gathered  to  kill.  The 
Pack,  following,  was  altogether  lost  under  the 
weight  of  the  Little  People." 

"The  buck  lived?"  Mowgli  repeated  slowly. 

"  At  least  he  did  not  die  then,  though  none 
waited  his  coming  down  with  a  strong  body  to 
hold  him  safe  against  the  water,  as  a  certain  old 
fat,  deaf,  yellow  Flathead  would  wait  for  a  Man- 
ling  —  yea,  though  there  were  all  the  dholes  of 
the  Dekkan  on  his  trail.  What  is  in  thy  stomach  ?  " 
Kaa's  head  was  close  to  Mowgli's  ear  ;  and  it  was 
a  little  time  before  the  boy  answered. 

"  It  is  to  pull  the  very  whiskers  of  Death, 
but  —  Kaa,  thou  art,  indeed,  the  wisest  of  all  the 
Jungle." 

"  So  many  have  said.  Look  now,  if  the  dhole 
follow  thee  — " 

"As  surely  they  will  follow.  Ho  !  ho  !  I  have 
many  little  thorns  under  my  tongue  to  prick  into 
their  hides." 

"  If  they  follow  thee  hot  and  blind,  looking 
only  at  thy  shoulders,  those  who  do  not  die  up 
above  will  take  water  either  here  or  lower  down, 
for  the  Little  People  will  rise  up  and  cover  them. 
Now  the  Waingunga  is  hungry  water,  and  they  will 
have  no  Kaa  to  hold  them,  but  will  go  down, 
such   as    live,    to   the   shallows  by   the   Seeonee 


RED  DOG  259 

lairs,  and  there  thy  Pack  may  meet  them  by  the 
throat." 

"  Akaif  Eowawa!  Better  could  not  be  till  the 
Rains  fall  in  the  dry  season.  There  is  now  only 
the  little  matter  of  the  run  and  the  leap.  I  will 
make  me  known  to  the  dholes,  so  that  they  shall 
follow  me  very  closely." 

"  Hast  thou  seen  the  rocks  above  thee  ?  From 
the  landward  side  ?  " 

"  Indeed,  no.     That  I  had  forgotten." 

"  Go  look.  It  is  all  rotten  ground,  cut  and  full 
of  holes.  One  of  thy  clumsy  feet  set  down  with- 
out seeing  would  end  the  hunt.  See,  I  leave  thee 
here,  and  for  thy  sake  only  I  will  carry  word  to 
the  Pack  that  they  may  know  where  to  look  for 
the  dhole.  For  myself,  I  am  not  of  one  skin  with 
any  wolf." 

When  Kaa  disliked  an  acquaintance  he  could 
be  more  unpleasant  than  any  of  the  Jungle  Peo- 
ple, except  perhaps  Bagheera.  He  swam  down- 
stream and  opposite  the  Rock  he  came  on  Phao 
and  Akela  listening  to  the  night  noises. 

"  Hssh !  Dogs,"  he  said  cheerfully.  "The 
dholes  will  come  down-stream.  If  ye  be  not 
afraid  ye  can  kill  them  in  the  shallows." 

"  When  come  they  ?  "  said  Phao.  "  And  where 
is  my  Man-cub  ?  "  said  Akela. 


260  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

"They  come  when  they  come,"  said  Kaa. 
"  Wait  and  see.  As  for  thy  Man-cub,  from  whom 
thou  hast  taken  a  Word  and  so  laid  him  open  to 
Death,  thy  Man -cub  is  with  me,  and  if  he  be  not 
already  dead  the  fault  is  none  of  thine,  bleached 
dog !  Wait  here  for  the  dhole,  and  be  glad  that 
the  Man-cub  and  I  strike  on  thy  side." 

He  flashed  up-stream  again,  and  moored  him- 
self in  the  middle  of  the  gorge,  looking  upward 
at  the  line  of  the  cliff.  Presently  he  saw  Mowgli's 
head  move  against  the  stars,  and  then  there  was 
a  whizz  in  the  air,  the  keen,  clean  schloop  of  a  body 
falling  feet  first,  and  next  minute  the  boy  was  at 
rest  again  in  the  loop  of  Kaa's  body. 

"  It  is  no  leap  by  night,"  said  Mowgli  quietly. 
"  I  have  jumped  twice  as  far  for  sport ;  but  that 
is  an  evil  place  above  —  low  bushes  and  gullies 
that  go  down  very  deep,  all  full  of  the  Little 
People.  I  have  put  big  stones  one  above  the 
other  by  the  side  of  three  gullies.  These  I  shall 
throw  down  with  my  feet  in  running,  and  the  Lit- 
tle People  will  rise  up  behind  me,  very  angry." 

"That  is  Man's  talk  and  Man's  cunning,"  said 
Kaa.  "Thou  art  wise,  but  the  Little  People  are 
always  angry." 

"  Nay,  at  twilight  all  wings  near  and  far  rest 
for  a  while.    I  will  play  with  the  dhole  at  twilight, 


RED  DOG  261 

for  the  dhole  hunts  best  by  day.  He  follows 
now  Won-tolla's  blood-trail." 

"  Chil  does  not  leave  a  dead  ox,  nor  the  dhole 
the  blood-trail,"  said  Kaa. 

"  Then  I  will  make  him  a  new  blood-trail,  of  his 
own  blood,  if  I  can,  and  give  him  dirt  to  eat. 
Thou  wilt  stay  here,  Kaa,  till  I  come  again  with 
my  dholes  ?  " 

"  Ay,  but  what  if  they  kill  thee  in  the  Jungle,  or 
the  Little  People  kill  thee  before  thou  canst  leap 
down  to  the  river  ?  " 

"  When  to-morrow  comes  we  will  kill  for  to- 
morrow," said  Mowgli,  quoting  a  Jungle  saying ; 
and  again,  "  When  I  am  dead  it  is  time  to  sing 
the  Death  Song.      Good  hunting,  Kaa  !  " 

He  loosed  his  arm  from  the  python's  neck  and 
went  down  the  gorge  like  a  log  in  a  freshet,  pad- 
dling toward  the  far  bank,  where  he  found  slack- 
water,  and  laughing  aloud  from  sheer  happiness. 
There  was  nothing  Mowgli  liked  better  than,  as 
he  himself  said,  "to  pull  the  whiskers  of  Death," 
and  make  the  Jungle  know  that  he  was  their  over- 
lord. He  had  often,  with  Baloo's  help,  robbed 
bees'  nests  in  single  trees,  and  he  knew  that  the 
Little  People  hated  the  smell  of  wild  garlic.  So 
he  gathered  a  small  bundle  of  it,  tied  it  up  with  a 
bark  string,  and  then  followed  Won-tolla's  blood- 


262  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

trail  as  it  ran  southerly  from  the  lairs,  for  some 
five  miles,  looking-  at  the  trees  with  his  head  on 
one  side,  and  chuckling  as  he  looked. 

"  Mowgli  the  Frog  have  I  been,"  said  he  to 
himself;  "  Mowgli  the  Wolf  have  I  said  that  I  am. 
Now  Mowgli  the  Ape  must  I  be  before  I  am 
Mowgli  the  Buck.  At  the  end  I  shall  be  Mowgli 
the  Man.  Ho  !  "  and  he  slid  his  thumb  along  the 
eighteen-inch  blade  of  his  knife. 

Won-tolla's  trail,  all  rank  with  dark  blood-spots, 
ran  under  a  forest  of  thick  trees  that  grew  close  to- 
gether  and  stretched  away  northeastward,  grad- 
ually growing  thinner  and  thinner  to  within  two 
miles  of  the  Bee  Rocks.  From  the  last  tree  to 
the  low  scrub  of  the  Bee  Rocks  was  open  coun- 
try, where  there  was  hardly  cover  enough  to  hide 
a  wolf.  Mowgli  trotted  along  under  the  trees, 
judging  distances  between  branch  and  branch, 
occasionally  climbing  up  a  trunk  and  taking  a 
trial  leap  from  one  tree  to  another,  till  he  came 
to  the  open  ground,  which  he  studied  very  care- 
fully for  an  hour.  Then  he  turned,  picked  up 
Won-tolla's  trail  where  he  had  left  it,  settled  him- 
self in  a  tree  with  an  outrunning  branch  some 
eight  feet  from  the  ground,  and  sat  still,  sharpen- 
ing his  knife  on  the  sole  of  his  foot  and  singing 
to  himself. 


RED  DOG  263 

A  little  before  midday,  when  the  sun  was  very 
warm,  he  heard  the  patter  of  feet  and  smelt  the 
abominable  smell  of  the  dhole  pack  as  they  trot- 
ted pitilessly  along  Won-tolla's  trail.  Seen  from 
above,  the  red  dhole  does  not  look  half  the  size  of 
a  wolf,  but  Mowgli  knew  how  strong  his  feet  and 
jaws  were.  He  watched  the  sharp  bay  head  of 
the  leader  snuffing  along  the  trail  and  gave  him 
"  Good  hunting  !  " 

The  brute  looked  up,  and  his  companions  halted 
behind  him,  scores  and  scores  of  red  dogs  with 
low-hung  tails,  heavy  shoulders,  weak  quarters, 
and  bloody  mouths.  The  dholes  are  a  silent 
people  as  a  rule,  and  they  have  no  manners  even 
in  their  own  Jungle.  Fully  two  hundred  must 
have  gathered  below  him,  but  he  could  see  that 
the  leaders  sniffed  hungrily  on  Won-tolla's  trail, 
and  tried  to  drag  the  Pack  forward.  That  would 
never  do,  or  they  would  be  at  the  Lairs  in  broad 
daylight,  and  Mowgli  intended  to  hold  them  under 
his  tree  till  dusk. 

"  By  whose  leave  do  ye  come  here  ? "  said 
Mowgli. 

"All  Jungles  are  our  Jungle,"  was  the  reply, 
and  the  dhole  that  gave  it  bared  his  white  teeth. 
Mowgli  looked  down  with  a  smile,  and  imitated 
perfectly  the  sharp  chitter-chatter  of  Chikai,  the 


264  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

leaping  rat  of  the  Dekkan,  meaning  the  dholes  to 
understand  that  he  considered  them  no  better 
than  Chikai.  The  Pack  closed  up  round  the  tree- 
trunk  and  the  leader  bayed  savagely,  calling 
Mowgli  a  tree-ape.  For  all  answer  Mowgli 
stretched  down  one  naked  leg  and  wriggled  his 
bare  toes  just  above  the  leader's  head.  That  was 
enough,  and  more  than  enough,  to  wake  the  Pack 
to  stupid  rage.  Those  who  have  hair  between 
their  toes  do  not  care  to  be  reminded  of  it.  Mowgli 
caught  his  foot  away  as  the  leader  leaped  up,  and 
said  sweetly:  "  Dog,  red  dog!  Go  back  to  the 
Dekkan  and  eat  lizards.  Go  to  Chikai  thy  bro- 
ther—  dog,  dog — red,  red,  dog!  There  is  hair 
between  every  toe  !"  He  twiddled  his  toes  a  sec- 
ond time. 

"Come  down  ere  we  starve  thee  out,  hairless 
ape  !  "  yelled  the  Pack,  and  this  was  exactly  what 
Mowgli  wanted.  He  laid  himself  down  along 
the  branch,  his  cheek  to  the  bark,  his  right  arm 
free,  and  there  he  told  the  Pack  what  he  thought 
and  knew  about  them,  their  manners,  their  cus- 
toms, their  mates,  and  their  puppies.  There  is  no 
speech  in  the  world  so  rancorous  and  so  stinging 
as  the  language  the  Jungle  People  use  to  show 
scorn  and  contempt.  When  you  come  to  think  of 
it  you  will  see  how  this  must  be  so.     As  Mowgli 


RED  DOG  265 

told  Kaa,  he  had  many  little  thorns  under  his 
tongue,  and  slowly  and  deliberately  he  drove  the 
dholes  from  silence  to  growls,  from  growls  to 
yells,  and  from  yells  to  hoarse  slavery  ravings. 
They  tried  to  answer  his  taunts,  but  a  cub  might 
as  well  have  tried  to  answer  Kaa  in  a  rage ;  and 
all  the  while  Mowgli's  right  hand  lay  crooked  at 
his  side,  ready  for  action,  his  feet  locked  round 
the  branch.  The  big  bay  leader  had  leaped  many 
times  in  the  air,  but  Mowgli  dared  not  risk  a  false 
blow.  At  last,  made  furious  beyond  his  natural 
strength,  he  bounded  up  seven  or  eight  feet  clear 
of  the  ground.  Then  Mowgli's  hand  shot  out 
like  the  head  of  a  tree-snake,  and  gripped  him  by 
the  scruff  of  his  neck,  and  the  branch  shook  with 
the  jar  as  his  weight  fell  back,  almost  wrenching 
Mowgli  to  the  ground.  But  he  never  loosed  his 
grasp,  and  inch  by  inch  he  hauled  the  beast, 
hanging  like  a  drowned  jackal,  up  on  the  branch. 
With  his  left  hand  he  reached  for  his  knife  and  cut 
off  the  red,  bushy  tail,  flinging  the  dhole  back  to 
earth  again.  That  was  all  he  needed.  The  Pack 
would  not  go  forward  on  Won-tolla's  trail  now 
till  they  had  killed  Mowgli  or  Mowgli  had  killed 
them.  He  saw  them  settle  down  in  circles  with  a 
quiver  of  the  haunches  that  meant  they  were 
going  to   stay,  and  so  he  climbed  to  a  higher 


266  THE    SECOND    JUNGLE   BOOK 

crotch,  settled  his  back  comfortably,  and  went  to 
sleep. 

After  four  or  five  hours  he  waked  and  counted 
the  Pack.  They  were  all  there,  silent,  husky,  and 
dry,  with  eyes  of  steel.  The  sun  was  beginning 
to  sink.  In  half  an  hour  the  Little  People  of  the 
Rocks  would  be  ending  their  labors,  and,  as  he 
knew,  the  dhole  does  not  fight  best  in  the  twi- 
light. 

"  I  did  not  need  such  faithful  watchers,"  he  said 
politely,  standing  up  on  a  branch,  "but  I  will  re- 
member this.  Ye  be  true  dholes,  but  to  my 
thinking  over  much  of  one  kind.  For  that  reason 
I  do  not  give  the  big  lizard-eater  his  tail  again. 
Art  thou  not  pleased,  Red  Dog  ?  " 

"  I  myself  will  tear  out  thy  stomach  !  "  yelled 
the  leader,  scratching  at  the  foot  of  the  tree. 

"  Nay,  but  consider,  wise  rat  of  the  Dekkan. 
There  will  now  be  many  litters  of  little  tailless  red 
dogs,  yea,  with  raw  red  stumps  that  sting  when 
the  sand  is  hot.  Go  home,  Red  Dog,  and  cry 
that  an  ape  has  done  this.  Ye  will  not  go  ?  Come, 
then,  with  me,  and  I  will  make  you  very  wise  ! " 

He  moved,  Bandar-log  fashion,  into  the  next 
tree,  and  so  on  into  the  next  and  the  next,  the 
Pack  following  with  lifted  hungry  heads.  Now 
and  then  he  would  pretend  to  fall,  and  the  Pack 


RED  DOG  267 

would  tumble  one  over  the  other  in  their  haste  to 
be  at  the  death.  It  was  a  curious  sight  —  the 
boy  with  the  knife  that  shone  in  the  low  sunlight 
as  it  shifted  through  the  upper  branches,  and  the 
silent  Pack  with  their  red  coats  all  aflame,  hud- 
dling and  following  below.  When  he  came  to 
the  last  tree  he  took  the  garlic  and  rubbed  him- 
self all  over  carefully,  and  the  dholes  yelled  with 
scorn.  "Ape  with  a  wolf's  tongue,  dost  thou  think 
to  cover  thy  scent  ?  "  they  said.  "  We  follow  to 
the  death." 

"  Take  thy  tail,"  said  Mowgli,  flinging  it  back 
along  the  course  he  had  taken.  The  Pack  instinc- 
tively rushed  after  it.  "And  follow  now  —  to 
the  death." 

He  had  slipped  down  the  tree-trunk,  and 
headed  like  the  wind  in  bare  feet  for  the  Bee 
Rocks,  before  the  dholes  saw  what  he  would  do. 

They  gave  one  deep  howl,  and  settled  down  to 
the  long,  lobbing  canter  that  can  at  the  last  run 
down  anything  that  runs.  Mowgli  knew  their 
pack-pace  to  be  much  slower  than  that  of  the 
wolves,  or  he  would  never  have  risked  a  two-mile 
run  in  full  sight.  They  were  sure  that  the  boy 
was  theirs  at  last,  and  he  was  sure  that  he  held 
them  to  play  with  as  he  pleased.  All  his  trouble 
was  to  keep  them  sufficiently  hot  behind  him  to 


268  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

prevent  their  turning  off  too  soon.  He  ran  cleanly, 
evenly,  and  springily  ;  the  tailless  leader  not  five 
yards  behind  him  ;  and  the  Pack  tailing  out  over 
perhaps  a  quarter  of  a  mile  of  ground,  crazy  and 
blind  with  the  rage  of  slaughter.  So  he  kept 
his  distance  by  ear,  reserving  his  last  effort  for 
the  rush  across  the  Bee  Rocks. 

The  Little  People  had  gone  to  sleep  in  the 
early  twilight,  for  it  was  not  the  season  of  late- 
blossoming  flowers;  but  as  Mowgli's  first  footfalls 
rang  hollow  on  the  hollow  ground  he  heard  a 
sound  as  though  all  the  earth  were  humming. 
Then  he  ran  as  he  had  never  run  in  his  life  before, 
spurned  aside  one  —  two  —  three  of  the  piles  of 
stones  into  the  dark,  sweet-smelling  gullies;  heard 
a  roar  like  the  roar  of  the  sea  in  a  cave ;  saw  with 
the  tail  of  his  eye  the  air  grow  dark  behind  him ; 
saw  the  current  of  the  Waingunga  far  below  and 
a  flat,  diamond-shaped  head  in  the  water  ;  leaped 
outward  with  all  his  strength,  the  tailless  dhole 
snapping  at  his  shoulder  in  mid-air,  and  dropped 
feet  first  to  the  safety  of  the  river,  breathless  and 
triumphant.  There  was  not  a  sting  upon  him, 
for  the  smell  of  the  garlic  had  checked  the  Little 
People  for  just  the  few  seconds  that  he  was  among 
them.  When  he  rose  Kaa's  coils  were  steadying 
him  and  things  were  bounding  over  the  edge  of 


RED  DOG  269 

the  cliff — great  lumps,  it  seemed,  of  clustered 
bees  falling  like  plummets ;  but  before  any  lump 
touched  water  the  bees  flew  upward  and  the  body 
of  a  dhole  whirled  down-stream.  Overhead  they 
could  hear  furious  short  yells  that  were  drowned 
in  a  roar  like  breakers  —  the  roar  of  the  wings 
of  the  Little  People  of  the  Rocks.  Some  of  the 
dholes,  too,  had  fallen  into  the  gullies  that  com- 
municated with  the  underground  caves,  and  there 
choked  and  fought  and  snapped  among  the  tum- 
bled honeycombs,  and  at  last,  borne  up  even  when 
they  were  dead  on  the  heaving  waves  of  bees 
beneath  them,  shot  out  of  some  hole  in  the  river- 
face,  to  roll  over  on  the  black  rubbish-heaps. 
There  were  dholes  who  had  leaped  short  into  the 
trees  on  the  cliffs,  and  the  bees  blotted  out  their 
shapes ;  but  the  greater  number  of  them,  mad- 
dened by  the  stings,  had  flung  themselves  into 
the  river ;  and,  as  Kaa  said,  the  Waingunga  was 
hungry  water. 

Kaa  held  Mowgli  fast  till  the  boy  had  recovered 
his  breath. 

"  We  may  not  stay  here,"  he  said.  "  The  Little 
People  are  roused  indeed.      Come  !  " 

Swimming  low  and  diving  as  often  as  he  could, 
Mowgli  went  down  the  river,  knife  in  hand. 

"Slowly,  slowly,"  said  Kaa.      "  One  tooth  does 


270  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

not  kill  a  hundred  unless  it  be  a  cobra's,  and  many 
of  the  dholes  took  water  swiftly  when  they  saw 
the  Little  People  rise." 

"The  more  work  for  my  knife,  then.  Phai I 
How  the  Little  People  follow ! "  Mowgli  sank 
again.  The  face  of  the  water  was  blanketed  with 
wild  bees,  buzzing  sullenly  and  stinging  all  they 
found. 

"  Nothing  was  ever  yet  lost  by  silence,"  said 
Kaa — no  sting  could  penetrate  his  scales  — 
"  and  thou  hast  all  the  long  night  for  the  hunting. 
Hear  them  howl !  " 

Nearly  half  the  pack  had  seen  the  trap  their 
fellows  rushed  into,  and  turning  sharp  aside  had 
flung  themselves  into  the  water  where  the  gorge 
broke  down  in  steep  banks.  Their  cries  of  rage 
and  their  threats  against  the  "  tree-ape"  who  had 
brought  them  to  their  shame  mixed  with  the  yells 
and  growls  of  those  who  had  been  punished  by  the 
Little  People.  To  remain  ashore  was  death,  and 
every  dhole  knew  it.  Their  pack  was  swept  along 
the  current,  down  to  the  deep  eddies  of  the  Peace 
Pool,  but  even  there  the  angry  Little  People 
followed  and  forced  them  to  the  water  again. 
Mowgli  could  hear  the  voice  of  the  tailless  leader 
bidding  his  people  hold  on  and  kill  out  every 
wolf  in  Seeonee.  But  he  did  not  waste  his  time 
in  listening. 


RED  DOG  271 

"  One  kills  in  the  dark  behind  us !"  snapped  a 
dhole.     "  Here  is  tainted  water." 

Mowgli  had  dived  forward  like  an  otter, 
twitched  a  struggling  dhole  under  water  before  he 
could  open  his  mouth,  and  dark  rings  rose  as  the 
body  plopped  up,  turning  on  its  side.  The  dholes 
tried  to  turn,  but  the  current  prevented  them,  and 
the  Little  People  darted  at  their  heads  and  ears, 
and  they  could  hear  the  challenge  of  the  Seeonee 
Pack  growing  louder  and  deeper  in  the  gathering 
darkness.  Again  Mowgli  dived,  and  again  a 
dhole  went  under,  and  rose  dead,  and  again  the 
clamor  broke  out  at  the  rear  of  the  pack ;  some 
howling  that  it  was  best  to  go  ashore,  others  call- 
ing on  their  leader  to  lead  them  back  to  the 
Dekkan,  and  others  bidding  Mowgli  show  him- 
self and  be  killed. 

"They  come  to  the  fight  with  two  stomachs 
and  several  voices,"  said  Kaa.  "  The  rest  is  with 
thy  brethren  below  yonder.  The  Little  People 
go  back  to  sleep.  They  have  chased  us  far. 
Now  I,  too,  turn  back,  for  I  am  not  of  one  skin 
with  any  wolf.  Good  hunting,  Little  Brother,  and 
remember  the  dhole  bites  low." 

A  wolf  came  running  along  the  bank  on  three 
legs,  leaping  up  and  down,  laying  his  head  side- 
ways close  to  the  ground,  hunching  his  back,  and 


272  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

breaking  high  into  the  air,  as  though  he  were 
playing  with  his  cubs.  It  was  Won-tolla,  the 
Outlier,  and  he  said  never  a  word,  but  continued 
his  horrible  sport  beside  the  dholes.  They  had 
been  long  in  the  water  now,  and  were  swimming 
wearily,  their  coats  drenched  and  heavy,  their 
bushy  tails  dragging  like  sponges,  so  tired  and 
shaken  that  they,  too,  were  silent,  watching  the 
pair  of  blazing  eyes  that  moved  abreast. 

"This  is  no  good  hunting,"  said  one,  panting. 

"Good  hunting!"  said  Mowgli,  as  he  rose 
boldly  at  the  brute's  side,  and  sent  the  long  knife 
home  behind  the  shoulder,  pushing  hard  to  avoid 
his  dying  snap. 

"Art  thou  there,  Man-cub?"  said  Won-tolla 
across  the  water. 

"Ask  of  the  dead,  Outlier,"  Mowgli  replied. 
"  Have  none  come  down-stream  ?  I  have  filled 
these  dogs'  mouths  with  dirt ;  I  have  tricked  them 
in  the  broad  daylight,  and  their  leader  lacks 
his  tail,  but  here  be  some  few  for  thee  still. 
Whither  shall  I  drive  them  ?  " 

"I  will  wait,"  said  Won-tolla.  "The  night 
is  before  me." 

Nearer  and  nearer  came  the  bay  of  the  Seeo- 
nee  wolves.  "  For  the  Pack,  for  the  Full  Pack 
it  is  met !  "   and  a  bend  in  the   river  drove  the 


RED  DOG  273 

dholes  forward  among  the  sands  and  shoals  op- 
posite the  Lairs. 

Then  they  saw  their  mistake.  They  should 
have  landed  half  a  mile  higher  up,  and  rushed 
the  wolves  on  dry  ground.  Now  it  was  too  late. 
The  bank  was  lined  with  burning  eyes,  and  ex- 
cept for  the  horrible//^^/  that  had  never  stopped 
since  sundown,  there  was  no  sound  in  the  Jungle. 
It  seemed  as  though  Won-tolla  were  fawning  on 
them  to  come  ashore ;  and  "  Turn  and  take  hold !" 
said  the  leader  of  the  dholes.  The  entire  Pack 
flung  themselves  at  the  shore,  threshing  and  squat- 
tering  through  the  shoal  water,  till  the  face  of  the 
Waingunga  was  all  white  and  torn,  and  the  great 
ripples  went  from  side  to  side,  like  bow-waves 
from  a  boat.  Mowgli  followed  the  rush,  stabbing 
and  slicing  as  the  dholes,  huddled  together, 
rushed  up  the  river-beach  in  one  wave. 

Then  the  long  fight  began,  heaving  and  strain- 
ing and  splitting  and  scattering  and  narrowing 
and  broadening  along  the  red,  wet  sands,  and 
over  and  between  the  tangled  tree-roots,  and 
through  and  among  the  brushes,  and  in  and  out 
of  the  grass  clumps;  for  even  now  the  dholes  were 
two  to  one.  But  they  met  wolves  fighting  for 
all  that  made  the  Pack,  and  not  only  the  short, 
high,  deep-chested,  white-tusked  hunters  of  the 


274  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

Pack,  but  the  anxious-eyed  lahinis  —  the  she- 
wolves  of  the  lair,  as  the  saying  is  —  fighting  for 
their  litters,  with  here  and  there  a  yearling  wolf, 
his  first  coat  still  half  woolly,  tugging  and  grap- 
pling by  their  sides.  A  wolf,  you  must  know, 
flies  at  the  throat  or  snaps  at  the  flank,  while  a 
dhole,  by  preference,  bites  at  the  belly ;  so  when 
the  dholes  were  struggling  out  of  the  water  and 
had  to  raise  their  heads,  the  odds  were  with  the 
wolves.  On  dry  land  the  wolves  suffered ;  but 
in  the  water  or  ashore,  Mowgli's  knife  came  and 
went  without  ceasing.  The  Four  had  worried 
their  way  to  his  side.  Gray  Brother,  crouched 
between  the  boy's  knees,  was  protecting  his  stom- 
ach, while  the  others  guarded  his  back  and  either 
side,  or  stood  over  him  when  the  shock  of  a  leap- 
ing, yelling  dhole  who  had  thrown  himself  full  on 
the  steady  blade,  bore  him  down.  For  the  rest,  it 
was  one  tangled  confusion  —  a  locked  and  sway- 
ing mob  that  moved  from  right  to  left  and  from 
left  to  right  along  the  bank ;  and  also  ground 
round  and  round  slowly  on  its  own  center.  Here 
would  be  a  heaving  mound,  like  a  water-blister  in 
a  whirlpool,  which  would  break  like  a  water-blis- 
ter, and  throw  up  four  or  five  mangled  dogs,  each 
striving  to  get  back  to  the  center;  here  would  be 
a  single  wolf  borne  down  by  two  or  three  dholes, 


RED  DOG  275 

laboriously  dragging  them  forward,  and  sinking 
the  while  ;  here  a  yearling  cub  would  be  held  up 
by  the  pressure  round  him,  though  he  had  been 
killed  early,  while  his  mother,  crazed  with  dumb 
rage,  rolled  over  and  over,  snapping,  and  passing 
on ;  and  in  the  middle  of  the  thickest  press,  per- 
haps, one  wolf  and  one  dhole,  forgetting  every- 
thing else,  would  be  manceuvering  for  first  hold 
till  they  were  whirled  away  by  a  rush  of  furious 
fighters.  Once  Mowgli  passed  Akela,  a  dhole  on 
either  flank,  and  his  all  but  toothless  jaws  closed 
over  the  loins  of  a  third ;  and  once  he  saw  Phao, 
his  teeth  set  in  the  throat  of  a  dhole,  tugging  the 
unwilling  beast  forward  till  the  yearlings  could 
finish  him.  But  the  bulk  of  the  fia-ht  was  blind 
flurry  and  smother  in  the  dark  ;  hit,  trip,  and  tum- 
ble, yelp,  groan,  and  worry- worry -worry,  round 
him  and  behind  him  and  above  him.  As  the 
night  wore  on,  the  quick,  giddy-go-round  motion 
increased.  The  dholes  were  cowed  and  afraid  to 
attack  the  stronger  wolves,  but  did  not  yet  dare 
to  run  away.  Mowgli  felt  that  the  end  was  com- 
ing soon,  and  contented  himself  with  striking 
merely  to  cripple.  The  yearlings  were  growing 
bolder;  there  was  time  now  and  again  to  breathe, 
and  pass  a  word  to  a  friend,  and  the  mere  flicker 
of  the  knife  would  sometimes  turn  a  dog  aside. 


276  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

"The  meat  is  very  near  the  bone,"  Gray 
Brother  yelled.  He  was  bleeding  from  a  score 
of  flesh-wounds. 

"  But  the  bone  is  yet  to  be  cracked,"  said 
Mowgli.  " Eowawa !  Thus  do  we  do  in  the 
Jungle  !  "  The  red  blade  ran  like  a  flame  along 
the  side  of  a  dhole  whose  hind-quarters  were  hid- 
den by  the  weight  of  a  clinging  wolf. 

"  My  kill !  "  snorted  the  wolf  through  his  wrin- 
kled nostrils.      "  Leave  him  to  me." 

"Is  thy  stomach  still  empty,  Outlier?"  said 
Mowgli.  Won-tolla  was  fearfully  punished,  but 
his  grip  had  paralyzed  the  dhole,  who  could  not 
turn  round  and  reach  him. 

"  By  the  Bull  that  bought  me,"  said  Mowgli, 
with  a  bitter  laugh,  "  it  is  the  tailless  one  !  "  And 
indeed  it  was  the  big  bay-colored  leader. 

"  It  is  not  wise  to  kill  cubs  and  lahinis," 
Mowgli  went  on,  philosophically,  wiping  the 
blood  out  of  his  eyes,  "unless  one  has  also  killed 
the  Outlier ;  and  it  is  in  my  stomach  that  this 
Won-tolla  kills  thee." 

A  dhole  leaped  to  his  leader's  aid ;  but  before 
his  teeth  had  found  Won-tolla's  flank,  Mowgli's 
knife  was  in  his  throat,  and  Gray  Brother  took 
what  was  left. 

"And  thus  do  we  do  in  the  Jungle,"  said 
Mowgli. 


RED  DOG  277 

Won-tolla  said  not  a  word,  only  his  jaws  were 
closing  and  closing  on  the  backbone  as  his  life 
ebbed.  The  dhole  shuddered,  his  head  dropped, 
and  he  lay  still,  and  Won-tolla  dropped  above 
him. 

"  Huh!  The  Blood  Debt  is  paid,"  said  Mowgli. 
"Sing  the  song,  Won-tolla." 

"  He  hunts  no  more,"  said  Gray  Brother;  "  and 
Akela,  too,  is  silent  this  long  time." 

"The  bone  is  cracked!"  thundered  Phao,  son 
of  Phaona.  "  They  go  !  Kill,  kill  out,  O  hunters 
of  the  Free  People  !  " 

Dhole  after  dhole  was  slinking  away  from  those 
dark  and  bloody  sands  to  the  river,  to  the  thick 
Jungle,  up-stream  or  down-stream  as  he  saw  the 
road  clear. 

"The  debt!  The  debt!"  shouted  Mowgli. 
"Pay  the  debt !  They  have  slain  the  Lone  Wolf! 
Let  not  a  dog  go  !  " 

He  was  flying  to  the  river,  knife  in  hand,  to 
check  any  dhole  who  dared  to  take  water,  when, 
from  under  a  mound  of  nine  dead,  rose  Akela's 
red  head  and  fore-quarters,  and  Mowgli  dropped 
on  his  knees  beside  the  Lone  Wolf. 

"  Said  I  not  it  would  be  my  last  fight  ?  "  Akela 
panted.  "  It  is  good  hunting.  And  thou,  Little 
Brother?" 


278  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

"  I  live,  having  killed  many." 

"  Even  so.  I  die,  and  I  would  —  I  would  die 
by  thee,  Little  Brother." 

Mowgli  took  the  terrible  scarred  head  on  his 
knees,  and  put  his  arms  round  the  torn  neck. 

"It  is  long  since  the  old  days  of  Shere  Khan, 
and  a  Man-cub  that  rolled  naked  in  the  dust." 

"  Nay,  nay,  I  am  a  wolf.  I  am  of  one  skin 
with  the  Free  People,"  Mowgli  cried.  "  It  is  no 
will  of  mine  that  I  am  a  man." 

"  Thou  art  a  man,  Little  Brother,  wolfling  of 
my  watching.  Thou  art  a  man,  or  else  the  Pack 
had  fled  before  the  dhole.  My  life  I  owe  to  thee, 
and  to-day  thou  hast  saved  the  Pack  even  as 
once  I  saved  thee.  Hast  thou  forgotten  ?  All 
debts  are  paid  now.  Go  to  thine  own  people.  I 
tell  thee  again,  eye  of  my  eye,  this  hunting  is 
ended.      Go  to  thine  own  people." 

"  I  will  never  go.  I  will  hunt  alone  in  the 
Jungle.     I  have  said  it." 

"After  the  summer  come  the  Rains,  and  after 
the  Rains  comes  the  spring.  Go  back  before 
thou  art  driven." 

"  Who  will  drive  me  ?  " 

"  Mowgli  will  drive  Mowgli.  Go  back  to  thy 
people.     Go  to  Man." 

"When  Mowgli  drives  Mowgli  I  will  go," 
Mowgli  answered. 


RED  DOG  279 

"There  is  no  more  to  say,"  said  Akela.  "  Lit- 
tle Brother,  canst  thou  raise  me  to  my  feet  ?  I 
also  was  a  leader  of  the  Free  People." 

Very  carefully  and  gently  Mowgli  lifted  the 
bodies  aside,  and  raised  Akela  to  his  feet,  both 
arms  round  him,  and  the  Lone  Wolf  drew  a  long 
breath,  and  began  the  Death  Song  that  a  leader 
of  the  Pack  should  sing  when  he  dies.  It  gath- 
ered strength  as  he  went  on,  lifting  and  lifting, 
and  ringing  far  across  the  river,  till  it  came  to 
the  last  "  Good  hunting  !  "  and  Akela  shook  him- 
self clear  of  Mowgli  for  an  instant,  and,  leaping 
into  the  air,  fell  backward  dead  upon  his  last  and 
most  terrible  kill. 

Mowgli  sat  with  the  head  on  his  knees,  careless 
of  anything  else,  while  the  remnant  of  the  flying 
dholes  were  being  overtaken  and  run  down  by 
the  merciless  lahinis.  Little  by  little  the  cries 
died  away,  and  the  wolves  returned  limping,  as 
their  wounds  stiffened,  to  take  stock  of  the  losses. 
Fifteen  of  the  Pack,  as  well  as  half  a  dozen  lahi- 
nis, lay  dead  by  the  river,  and  of  the  others  not 
one  was  unmarked.  And  Mowgli  sat  through 
it  all  till  the  cold  daybreak,  when  Phao's  wet,  red 
muzzle  was  dropped  in  his  hand,  and  Mowgli 
drew  back  to  show  the  gaunt  body  of  Akela. 

"  Good  hunting !  "  said  Phao,  as  though  Akela 


280  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

were  still  alive,  and  then  over  his  bitten  shoulder 
to  the  others:  "Howl,  dogs  !  A  Wolf  has  died 
to-night ! " 

But  of  all  the  Pack  of  two  hundred  fighting 
dholes,  whose  boast  was  that  all  Jungles  were  their 
Jungle,  and  that  no  living  thing  could  stand  be- 
fore them,  not  one  returned  to  the  Dekkan  to 
carry  that  word. 


CHIL'S   SONG 

[This  is  the  song  that  Chil  sang  as  the  kites  dropped 
down  one  after  another  to  the  river-bed,  when  the  great 
fight  was  finished.  Chil  is  good  friends  with  everybody, 
but  he  is  a  cold-blooded  kind  of  creature  at  heart,  be- 
cause he  knows  that  almost  everybody  in  the  Jungle 
comes  to  him  in  the  long  run.] 

HESE  were- my  companions  going 

forth  by  night  — 

(For  Chil!    Look  you,  for  Chill) 

Now  come  I  to  whistle  them  the 

ending  of  the  fight. 

(Chil !      Vanguards  of  Chil Is) 

Word  they  gave  me  overhead  of 

quarry  newly  slain, 
Word  I  gave  them  underfoot  of 
buck  upon  the  plain. 
Here  's  an  end  of  every  trail  —  they  shall  not  speak 
again ! 


They  that  called  the  hunting-cry  —  they  that  followed 
fast  — 

{For  Chil !     Look  you,  for  Chil!) 

281 


282  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

They  that  bade  the  sambhur  wheel,  and  pinned  him  as 

he  passed  — 

{Chil !      Vanguards  of  CJiil /) 
They  that  lagged  behind  the  scent — they  that  ran  before, 
They  that  shunned  the  level  horn  —  they  that  overbore. 
Here  's  an  end  of  every  trail  —  they  shall  not  follow 

more. 

These  were  my  companions.      Pity  't  was  they  died ! 

{For  Chill     Look  you,  for  Chill) 
Now  come  I  to  comfort  them  that  knew  them  in  their 

pride. 

{Chil !      Vanguards  of  Chil /) 
Tattered  flank  and  sunken  eye,  open  mouth  and  red, 
Locked  and  lank  and  lone  they  lie,  the  dead  upon  their 

dead. 
Here  's  an  end  of  every  trail — and  here  my  hosts  are 

fed! 


THE   SPRING   RUNNING 


Man  goes  to  Man  !     Cry  the  challenge  through  the  Jungle  ! 

He  that  was  our  Brother  goes  away. 
Hear,  now,  and  judge,  O  ye  People  of  the  Jungle, — 

Answer,  who  shall  turn  him  —  who  shall  stay  ? 

Man  goes  to  Man  !     He  is  weeping  in  the  Jungle: 

He  that  was  our  Brother  sorrows  sore  ! 
Man  goes  to  Man  !     (Oh,  we  loved  him  in  the  Jungle !) 

To  the  Man-Trail  where  we  may  not  follow  more. 


THE   SPRING   RUNNING 


HE  second   year   after  the 
great  fight  with  Red  Dog 
and   the    death   of  Akela, 
Mowgli    must   have  been 
nearly     seventeen      years 
old.       He     looked    older, 
for     hard     exercise,     the 
best  of  good  eating,   and 
baths    whenever    he    felt 
in  the  least  hot  or  dusty, 
had    given    him    strength 
and  growth  far  beyond  his 
age.      He  could  swing  by 
one  hand  from  a  top  branch  for  half  an  hour  at 
a  time,  when  he  had  occasion  to  look  along  the 
tree-roads.     He  could  stop  a  young  buck  in  mid- 
285 


286  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

gallop  and  throw  him  sideways  by  the  head. 
He  could  even  jerk  over  the  big,  blue  wild  boars 
that  lived  in  the  Marshes  of  the  North.  The 
Jungle  People  who  used  to  fear  him  for  his  wits 
feared  him  now  for  his  strength,  and  when  he 
moved  quietly  on  his  own  affairs  the  mere  whis- 
per of  his  coming  cleared  the  wood-paths.  And 
yet  the  look  in  his  eyes  was  always  gentle. 
Even  when  he  fought,  his  eyes  never  blazed  as 
Bagheera's  did.  They  only  grew  more  and  more 
interested  and  excited ;  and  that  was  one  of  the 
things  that  Bagheera  himself  did  not  understand. 

He  asked  Mowgli  about  it,  and  the  boy  laughed 
and  said :  "  When  I  miss  the  kill  I  am  angry. 
When  I  must  go  empty  for  two  days  I  am  very 
angry.      Do  not  my  eyes  talk  then  ?  " 

"The  mouth  is  angry,"  said  Bagheera,  "but 
the  eyes  say  nothing.  Hunting,  eating,  or  swim- 
ming, it  is  all  one — like  a  stone  in  wet  or  dry 
weather."  Mowgli  looked  at  him  lazily  from  un- 
der his  long  eyelashes,  and,  as  usual,  the  panther's 
head  dropped.      Bagheera  knew  his  master. 

They  were  lying  out  far  up  the  side  of  a  hill 
overlooking  the  Waingunga,  and  the  morning 
mist  hung  below  them  in  bands  of  white  and 
green.  As  the  sun  rose  it  changed  into  bub- 
bling seas  of  red  gold,  churned  off,  and  let  the 


THE    SPRING   RUNNING  287 

low  rays  stripe  the  dried  grass  on  which  Mowgli 
and  Bagheera  were  resting.  It  was  the  end  of 
the  cold  weather,  the  leaves  and  the  trees  looked 
worn  and  faded,  and  there  was  a  dry,  ticking 
rustle  everywhere  when  the  wind  blew.  A  little 
leaf  tap-tap-tapped  furiously  against  a  twig,  as  a 
sino-le  leaf  caught  in  a  current  will.  It  roused 
Bagheera,  for  he  snuffed  the  morning  air  with  a 
deep,  hollow  cough,  threw  himself  on  his  back, 
and  struck  with  his  fore- paws  at  the  nodding  leaf 
above. 

"  The  year  turns,"  he  said.  "  The  Jungle  goes 
forward.  The  Time  of  New  Talk  is  near.  That 
leaf  knows.     It  is  very  good." 

"The  grass  is  dry,"  Mowgli  answered,  pulling 
up  a  tuft.  "  Even  Eye-of- the- Spring  [that  is  a 
little  trumpet-shaped,  waxy  red  flower  that  runs 
in  and  out  among  the  grasses] — even  Eye-of-the 
Spring  is  shut,  and  .  .  .  Bagheera,  is  it  well  for 
the  Black  Panther  so  to  lie  on  his  back  and  beat 
with  his  paws  in  the  air,  as  though  he  were  the 
tree-cat?  " 

"  Aowh  ?  "  said  Bagheera.  He  seemed  to  be 
thinking  of  other  things. 

"  I  say,  is  it  well  for  the  Black  Panther  so  to 
mouth  and  cough,  and  howl  and  roll  ?  Remem- 
ber, we  be  the  Masters  of  the  Jungle,  thou  and  I." 


288  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

"  Indeed,  yes :  I  hear,  Man-cub."  Bagheera 
rolled  over  hurriedly  and  sat  up,  the  dust  on  his 
ragged,  black  flanks.  (He  was  just  casting  his 
winter  coat.)  "We  be  surely  the  Masters  of  the 
Jungle !  Who  is  so  strong  as  Mowgli  ?  Who 
so  wise  ? "  There  was  a  curious  drawl  in  the 
voice  that  made  Mowgli  turn  to  see  whether  by 
any  chance  the  Black  Panther  were  making  fun 
of  him,  for  the  Jungle  is  full  of  words  that  sound 
like  one  thing,  but  mean  another.  "  I  said  we  be 
beyond  question  the  Masters  of  the  Jungle,"  Ba- 
gheera repeated.  "  Have  I  done  wrong?  I  did 
not  know  that  the  Man-cub  no  longer  lay  upon 
the  ground.      Does  he  fly,  then  ?  " 

Mowgli  sat  with  his  elbows  on  his  knees,  look- 
ing out  across  the  valley  at  the  daylight.  Some- 
where down  in  the  woods  below  a  bird  was  try- 
ing over  in  a  husky,  reedy  voice  the  first  few 
notes  of  his  spring  song.  It  was  no  more  than 
a  shadow  of  the  liquid,  tumbling  call  he  would 
be  pouring  later,  but  Bagheera  heard  it. 

"  I  said  the  Time  of  New  Talk  is  near,"  growled 
the  panther,  switching  his  tail. 

"  I  hear,"  Mowgli  answered.  "  Bagheera,  why 
dost  thou  shake  all  over?     The  sun  is  warm." 

"That  is  Ferao,  the  scarlet  woodpecker,"  said 
Bagheera.     "  He  has  not  forgotten.    Now  I,  too, 


THE   SPRING   RUNNING  289 

must  remember  my  song,"  and  he  began  purring 
and  crooning  to  himself,  harking  back  dissatis- 
fied again  and  again. 

"There  is  no  grame  afoot,"  said  Moweli. 

"Little  Brother,  are  both  thine  ears  stopped? 
That  is  no  killing-word,  but  my  song  that  I  make 
ready  against  the  need." 

"  I  had  forgotten.  I  shall  know  when  the 
Time  of  New  Talk  is  here,  because  then  thou  and 
the  others  all  run  away  and  leave  me  alone." 
Mowgli  spoke  rather  savagely. 

"But,  indeed,  Little  Brother,"  Bagheera  began, 
"we  do  not  always — " 

"  I  say  ye  do,"  said  Mowgli,  shooting  out  his 
forefinger  angrily.  "Ye  do  run  away,  and  I, 
who  am  the  Master  of  the  Jungle,  must  needs 
walk  alone.  How  was  it  last  season,  when  I 
would  gather  sugar-cane  from  the  fields  of  a 
Man-Pack?  I  sent  a  runner — I  sent  thee  ! — to 
Hathi,  bidding  him  to  come  upon  such  a  night 
and  pluck  the  sweet  grass  for  me  with  his  trunk." 

"  He  came  only  two  nights  later,"  said  Ba- 
gheera, cowering  a  little;  "and  of  that  long,  sweet 
grass  that  pleased  thee  so  he  gathered  more 
than  any  Man-cub  could  eat  in  all  the  nights  of 
the  Rains.     That  was  no  fault  of  mine." 

"  He  did  not  come  upon  the  night  when  I  sent 


290  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

him  the  word.  No,  he  was  trumpeting  and  run- 
ning and  roaring  through  the  valleys  in  the  moon- 
light. His  trail  was  like  the  trail  of  three  ele- 
phants, for  he  would  not  hide  among  the  trees. 
He  danced  in  the  moonlight  before  the  houses  of 
the  Man-Pack.  I  saw  him,  and  yet  he  would 
not  come  to  me ;  and  /  am  the  Master  of  the 
Jungle  !  " 

"It  was  the  Time  of  New  Talk,"  said  the  pan- 
ther, always  very  humble.  "  Perhaps,  Little 
Brother,  thou  didst  not  that  time  call  him  by  a 
Master-word  ?     Listen  to  Ferao,  and  be  glad !  " 

Mowgli's  bad  temper  seemed  to  have  boiled  it- 
self away.  He  lay  back  with  his  head  on  his 
arms,  his  eyes  shut.  "  I  do  not  know  —  nor  do 
I  care,"  he  said  sleepily.  "  Let  us  sleep,  Ba- 
gheera.  My  stomach  is  heavy  in  me.  Make  me 
a  rest  for  my  head." 

The  panther  lay  down  again  with  a  sigh,  be- 
cause he  could  hear  Ferao  practising  and  re- 
practising  his  song  against  the  Springtime  of 
New  Talk,   as  they  say. 

In  an  Indian  Jungle  the  seasons  slide  one  into 
the  other  almost  without  division.  There  seem 
to  be  only  two  —  the  wet  and  the  dry ;  but  if 
you  look  closely  below  the  torrents  of  rain  and 
the  clouds  of  char  and  dust  you  will  find  all  four 


THE   SPRING   RUNNING  291 

going  round  in  their  regular  ring.  Spring  is  the 
most  wonderful,  because  she  has  not  to  cover  a 
clean,  bare  field  with  new  leaves  and  flowers,  but 
to  drive  before  her  and  to  put  away  the  hang- 
ing-on,  over-surviving  raffle  of  half-green  things 
which  the  gentle  winter  has  suffered  to  live,  and 
to  make  the  partly  dressed  stale  earth  feel  new 
and  young  once  more.  And  this  she  does  so 
well  that  there  is  no  spring  in  the  world  like  the 
Jungle  spring. 

There  is  one  day  when  all  things  are  tired,  and 
the  very  smells,  as  they  drift  on  the  heavy  air,  are 
old  and  used.  One  cannot  explain  this,  but  it 
feels  so.  Then  there  is  another  day  —  to  the 
eye  nothing  whatever  has  changed  —  when  all 
the  smells  are  new  and  delightful,  and  the  whis- 
kers of  the  Jungle  People  quiver  to  their  roots, 
and  the  winter  hair  comes  away  from  their  sides 
in  long,  draggled  locks.  Then,  perhaps,  a  little 
rain  falls,  and  all  the  trees  and  the  bushes  and  the 
bamboos  and  the  mosses  and  the  juicy-leaved 
plants  wake  with  a  noise  of  growing  that  you  can 
almost  hear,  and  under  this  noise  runs,  day  and 
night,  a  deep  hum.  That  is  the  noise  of  the 
spring — a  vibrating  boom  which  is  neither  bees, 
nor  falling  water,  nor  the  wind  in  tree-tops,  but 
the  purring  of  the  warm,  happy  world. 


292  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

Up  to  this  year  Mowgli  had  always  delighted 
in  the  turn  of  the  seasons.  It  was  he  who  gen- 
erally saw  the  first  Eye-of- the-  Spring  deep  down 
among  the  grasses,  and  the  first  bank  of  spring 
clouds  which  are  like  nothing  else  in  the  Jungle. 
His  voice  could  be  heard  in  all  sorts  of  wet,  star- 
lighted,  blossoming  places,  helping  the  big  frogs 
through  their  choruses,  or  mocking  the  little  up- 
side-down owls  that  hoot  through  the  white 
nights.  Like  all  his  people,  spring  was  the  sea- 
son he  chose  for  his  flittings — moving,  for  the 
mere  joy  of  rushing  through  the  warm  air,  thirty, 
forty,  or  fifty  miles  between  twilight  and  the 
morning  star,  and  coming  back  panting  and 
laughing  and  wreathed  with  strange  flowers. 
The  Four  did  not  follow  him  on  these  wild  ring- 
ings of  the  Jungle,  but  went  off  to  sing  songs 
with  other  wolves.  The  Jungle  People  are  very 
busy  in  the  spring,  and  Mowgli  could  hear  them 
grunting  and  screaming  and  whistling  according 
to  their  kind.  Their  voices  then  are  different 
from  their  voices  at  other  times  of  the  year,  and 
that  is  one  of  the  reasons  why  spring  in  the  Jun- 
gle is  called  the  Time  of  New  Talk. 

But  that  spring,  as  he  told  Bagheera,  his  stom- 
ach was  changed  m  n}m-  Ever  since  the  bamboo 
shoots  turned  spotty-brown  he  had  been  looking 


THE   SPRING   RUNNING  293 

forward  to  the  morning  when  the  smells  should 
change.  But  when  the  morning  came,  and  Mor 
the  Peacock,  blazing  in  bronze  and  blue  and 
gold,  cried  it  aloud  all  along  the  misty  woods, 
and  Mowgli  opened  his  mouth  to  send  on  the 
cry,  the  words  choked  between  his  teeth,  and  a 
feeling  came  over  him  that  began  at  his  toes  and 
ended  in  his  hair — a  feeling  of  pure  unhappiness, 
so  that  he  looked  himself  over  to  be  sure  that  he 
had  not  trod  on  a  thorn.  Mor  cried  the  new 
smells,  the  other  birds  took  it  over,  and  from  the 
rocks  by  the  Waingunga  he  heard  Bagheera's 
hoarse  scream  —  something  between  the  scream 
of  an  eagle  and  the  neighing  of  a  horse.  There 
was  a  yelling  and  scattering  of  bandar-log  in  the 
new-budding  branches  above,  and  there  stood 
Mowgli,  his  chest,  filled  to  answer  Mor,  sinking 
in  little  gasps  as  the  breath  was  driven  out  of  it 
by  this  unhappiness. 

He  stared  all  round  him,  but  he  could  see  no 
more  than  the  mocking  bandar-log  scudding 
through  the  trees,  and  Mor,  his  tail  spread  in  full 
splendor,  dancing  on  the  slopes  below. 

"  The  smells  have  changed,"  screamed  Mor. 
"  Good  hunting,  Little  Brother !  Where  is  thy 
answer?  " 

"  Little  Brother,  good  hunting  !  "  whistled  Chil 


294  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

the  Kite  and  his  mate,  swooping  down  together. 
The  two  barfed  under  Mowgli's  nose  so  close  that 
a  pinch  of  downy  white  feathers  brushed  away. 

A  light  spring  rain  —  elephant-rain  they  call 
it —  drove  across  the  Jungle  in  a  belt  half  a  mile 
wide,  left  the  new  leaves  wet  and  nodding  be- 
hind, and  died  out  in  a  double  rainbow  and  a 
light  roll  of  thunder.  The  spring  hum  broke  out 
for  a  minute,  and  was  silent,  but  all  the  Jungle 
Folk  seemed  to  be  giving  tongue  at  once.  All 
except  Mowgli. 

"  I  have  eaten  good  food,"  he  said  to  himself. 
"  I  have  drunk  good  water.  Nor  does  my  throat 
burn  and  grow  small,  as  it  did  when  I  bit  the 
blue-spotted  root  that  Oo  the  Turtle  said  was 
clean  food.  But  my  stomach  is  heavy,  and  I 
have  given  very  bad  talk  to  Bagheera  and  others, 
people  of  the  Jungle  and  my  people.  Now,  too, 
I  am  hot  and  now  I  am  cold,  and  now  I  am  neither 
hot  nor  cold,  but  angry  with  that  which  I  cannot 
see.  Huhu!  It  is  time  to  make  a  running!  To- 
night I  will  cross  the  ranges ;  yes,  I  will  make  a 
spring  running  to  the  Marshes  of  the  North,  and 
back  again.  I  have  hunted  too  easily  too  long. 
The  Four  shall  come  with  me,  for  they  grow  as 
fat  as  white  grubs." 

He  called,  but  never  one  of  the  Four  answered. 


THE   SPRING   RUNNING  295 

They  were  far  beyond  earshot,  singing  over  the 
spring  songs  —  the  Moon  and  Sambhur  Songs 
—  with  the  wolves  of  the  Pack  ;  for  in  the  spring- 
time the  Jungle  People  make  very  little  differ- 
ence between  the  day  and  the  night.  He  gave  the 
sharp,  barking  note,  but  his  only  answer  was  the 
mocking  maiou  of  the  little  spotted  tree-cat  wind- 
ing in  and  out  among  the  branches  for  early 
birds'  nests.  At  this  he  shook  all  over  with  rage, 
and  half  drew  his  knife.  Then  he  became  very 
haughty,  though  there  was  no  one  to  see  him, 
and  stalked  severely  down  the  hillside,  chin  up 
and  eyebrows  down.  But  never  a  single  one  of 
his  people  asked  him  a  question,  for  they  were 
all  too  busy  with  their  own  affairs. 

"  Yes,"  said  Mowgli  to  himself,  though  in  his 
heart  he  knew  that  he  had  no  reason.  "  Let  the 
Red  Dhole  come  from  the  Dekkan,  or  the  Red 
Flower  dance  among  the  bamboos,  and  all  the 
Jungle  runs  whining  to  Mowgli,  calling  him  great 
elephant-names.  But  now,  because  Eye-of-the- 
Spring  is  red,  and  Mor,  forsooth,  must  show  his 
naked  legs  in  some  spring  dance,  the  Jungle  goes 
mad  as  Tabaqui.  .  .  .  By  the  Bull  that  bought 
me !  am  I  the  Master  of  the  Jungle,  or  am  I  not  ? 
Be  silent !     What  do  ye  here  ?  " 

A  couple  of  young  wolves  of  the  Pack  were 


296  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

cantering  down  a  path,  looking  for  open  ground 
in  which  to  fight.  (You  will  remember  that  the 
Law  of  the  Jungle  forbids  fighting  where  the 
Pack  can  see.)  Their  neck-bristles  were  as  stiff 
as  wire,  and  they  bayed  furiously,  crouching  for 
the  first  grapple.  Mowgli  leaped  forward,  caught 
one  outstretched  throat  in  either  hand,  expecting 
to  fling  the  creatures  backward  as  he  had  often 
done  in  games  or  Pack  hunts.  But  he  had  never 
before  interfered  with  a  spring  fight.  The  two 
leaped  forward  and  dashed  him  aside,  and  with- 
out word  to  waste  rolled  over  and  over  close 
locked. 

Mowgli  was  on  his  feet  almost  before  he  fell,  his 
knife  and  his  white  teeth  were  bared,  and  at  that 
minute  he  would  have  killed  both  for  no  reason  but 
that  they  were  fighting  when  he  wished  them  to 
be  quiet,  although  every  wolf  has  full  right  under 
the  Law  to  fight.  He  danced  round  them  with 
lowered  shoulders  and  quivering  hand,  ready  to 
send  in  a  double  blow  when  the  first  flurry  of  the 
scuffle  should  be  over ;  but  while  he  waited  the 
strength  seemed  to  ebb  from  his  body,  the  knife- 
point lowered,  and  he  sheathed  the  knife  and 
watched. 

"  I  have  surely  eaten  poison,"  he  sighed  at 
last.      "  Since  I  broke  up  the  Council  with  the 


THE   SPRING    RUNNING  297 

Red  Flower  —  since  I  killed  Shere  Khan  — 
none  of  the  Pack  could  fling  me  aside.  And 
these  be  only  tail-wolves  in  the  Pack,  little  hunt- 
ers !  My  strength  is  gone  from  me,  and  presently 
I  shall  die.  Oh,  Mowgli,  why  dost  thou  not  kill 
them  both  ? " 

The  fight  went  on  till  one  wolf  ran  away,  and 
Mowgli  was  left  alone  on  the  torn  and  bloody 
ground,  looking  now  at  his  knife,  and  now  at  his 
legs  and  arms,  while  the  feeling  of  unhappiness 
he  had  never  known  before  covered  him  as  wa> 
ter  covers  a  log. 

He  killed  early  that  evening  and  eat  but  little, 
so  as  to  be  in  good  fettle  for  his  spring  running, 
and  he  eat  alone  because  all  the  Jungle  People 
were  away  singing  or  fighting.  It  was  a  perfect 
white  night,  as  they  call  it.  All  green  things 
seemed  to  have  made  a  month's  growth  since  the 
morning.  The  branch  that  was  yellow-leaved 
the  day  before  dripped  sap  when  Mowgli  broke 
it.  The  mosses  curled  deep  and  warm  over  his 
feet,  the  young  grass  had  no  cutting  edges,  and 
all  the  voices  of  the  Jungle  boomed  like  one  deep 
harp-string  touched  by  the  moon  —  the  Moon 
of  New  Talk,  who  splashed  her  light  full  on 
rock  and  pool,  slipped  it  between  trunk  and 
creeper,   and   sifted  it  through  a  million  leaves. 


298  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

Forgetting  his  unhappiness,  Mowgli  sang  aloud 
with  pure  delight  as  he  settled  into  his  stride.  It 
was  more  like  flying  than  anything  else,  for  he 
had  chosen  the  long  downward  slope  that  leads 
to  the  Northern  Marshes  through  the  heart  of  the 
main  Jungle,  where  the  springy  ground  dead- 
ened the  fall  of  his  feet.  A  man-taught  man 
would  have  picked  his  way  with  many  stumbles 
through  the  cheating  moonlight,  but  Mowgli's 
muscles,  trained  by  years  of  experience,  bore 
him  up  as  though  he  were  a  feather.  When 
a  rotten  log  or  a  hidden  stone  turned  under  his 
foot  he  saved  himself,  never  checking  his  pace, 
without  effort  and  without  thought.  When  he 
tired  of  ground-going  he  threw  up  his  hands 
monkey-fashion  to  the  nearest  creeper,  and 
seemed  to  float  rather  than  to  climb  up  into  the 
thin  branches,  whence  he  would  follow  a  tree- 
road  till  his  mood  changed,  and  he  shot  down- 
ward in  a  long,  leafy  curve  to  the  levels  again. 
There  were  still,  hot  hollows  surrounded  by  wet 
rocks  where  he  could  hardly  breathe  for  the  heavy 
scents  of  the  night  flowers  and  the  bloom  along 
the  creeper-buds  ;  dark  avenues  where  the  moon- 
light lay  in  belts  as  regular  as  checkered  marbles 
in  a  church  aisle  ;  thickets  where  the  wet  young 
growth  stood  breast-high  about  him  and  threw 


THE   SPRING   RUNNING  299 

its  arms  round  his  waist ;  and  hilltops  crowned 
with  broken  rock,  where  he  leaped  from  stone  to 
stone  above  the  lairs  of  the  frightened  little  foxes. 
He  would  hear,  very  faint  and  far  off,  the  chug- 
drug  of  a  boar  sharpening  his  tusks  on  a  bole  ; 
and  would  come  across  the  great  gray  brute  all 
alone,  scribing  and  rending  the  bark  of  a  tall  tree, 
his  mouth  dripping  with  foam,  and  his  eyes  blaz- 
ing like  fire.  Or  he  would  turn  aside  to  the 
sound  of  clashing  horns  and  hissing  grunts,  and 
dash  past  a  couple  of  furious  sambhur,  stagger- 
ing to  and  fro  with  lowered  heads,  striped  with 
blood  that  showed  black  in  the  moonlight.  Or  at 
some  rushing  ford  he  would  hear  Jacala  the  Croc- 
odile bellowing  like  a  bull,  or  disturb  a  twined 
knot  of  the  Poison  People,  but  before  they  could 
strike  he  would  be  away  and  across  the  glistening 
shingle,  deep  in  the  Jungle  again. 

So  he  ran,  sometimes  shouting,  sometimes 
singing  to  himself,  the  happiest  thing  in  all  the 
Jungle  that  night,  till  the  smell  of  the  flowers 
warned  him  that  he  was  near  the  marshes,  and 
those  lay  far  beyond  his  furthest  hunting-grounds. 

Here,  again,  a  man-trained  man  would  have  sunk 
overhead  in  three  strides,  but  Mowgli's  feet  had 
eyes  in  them,  and  they  passed  him  from  tussock  to 
tussock  and  clump  to  quaking  clump  without  ask- 


300  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

ing  help  from  the  eyes  in  his  head.  He  ran  out  to 
the  middle  of  the  swamp,  disturbing  the  duck  as 
he  ran,  and  sat  down  on  a  moss-coated  tree-trunk 
lapped  in  the  black  water.  The  marsh  was 
awake  all  round  him,  for  in  the  spring  the  Bird- 
People  sleep  very  lightly,  and  companies  of  them 
were  coming  or  going  the  night  through.  But  no 
one  took  any  notice  of  Mowgli  sitting  among  the 
tall  reeds  humming  songs  without  words,  and  look- 
ing at  the  soles  of  his  hard  brown  feet  in  case  of 
neglected  thorns.  All  his  unhappiness  seemed  to 
have  been  left  behind  in  his  own  jungle,  and  he 
was  just  beginning  a  full-throat  song  when  it 
came  back  a^ain  —  ten  times  worse  than  before. 

This  time  Mowgli  was  frightened.  "  It  is  here 
also  !  "  he  said  half  aloud.  "  It  has  followed  me," 
and  he  looked  over  his  shoulder  to  see  whether 
the  It  were  not  standing  behind  him.  "There  is 
no  one  here."  The  night  noises  of  the  marsh 
went  on,  but  never  a  bird  or  beast  spoke  to  him, 
and  the  new  feeling  of  misery  grew. 

"  I  have  surely  eaten  poison,"  he  said  in  an 
awe-stricken  voice.  "  It  must  be  that  carelessly 
I  have  eaten  poison,  and  my  strength  is  going 
from  me.  I  was  afraid  —  and  yet  it  was  not  / 
that  was  afraid  —  Mowgli  was  afraid  when  the 
two  wolves  fought.     Akela,  or  even  Phao,  would 


THE   SPRING   RUNNING  301 

have  silenced  them ;  yet  Mowgli  was  afraid. 
That  is  true  sign  I  have  eaten  poison.  .  .  . 
But  what  do  they  care  in  the  Jungle  ?  They  sing 
and  howl  and  fight,  and  run  in  companies  under 
the  moon,  and  I — Hai-mai  ! —  I  am  dying  in  the 
marshes,  of  that  poison  which  I  have  eaten."  He 
was  so  sorry  for  himself  that  he  nearly  wept. 
"And  after,"  he  went  on,  "they  will  find  me  ly- 
ing in  the  black  water.  Nay,  I  will  go  back  to 
my  own  Jungle,  and  I  will  die  upon  the  Council 
Rock,  and  Bagheera,  whom  I  love,  if  he  is  not 
screaming  in  the  valley  —  Bagheera,  perhaps, 
may  watch  by  what  is  left  for  a  little,  lest  Chil 
use  me  as  he  used  Akela." 

A  large,  warm  tear  splashed  down  on  his  knee, 
and,  miserable  as  he  was,  Mowgli  felt  happy  that 
he  was  so  miserable,  if  you  can  understand  that 
upside-down  sort  of  happiness.  "As  Chil  the 
Kite  used  Akela,"  he  repeated,  "  on  the  night  I 
saved  the  Pack  from  Red  Dog."  He  was  quiet 
for  a  little,  thinking  of  the  last  words  of  the 
Lone  Wolf,  which  you,  of  course,  remember. 
"  Now  Akela  said  to  me  many  foolish  things 
before  he  died,  for  when  we  die  our  stomachs 
change.  He  said  .  .  .  None  the  less,  I  am  of 
the  Jungle ! " 

In  his  excitement,  as  he  remembered  the  fight 


302  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

on  Waingunga  bank,  he  shouted  the  last  words 
aloud,  and  a  wild  buffalo-cow  among  the  reeds 
sprang  to  her  knees,  snorting,  "  Man  !  " 

"  Uhh  !  "  said  Mysa  the  Wild  Buffalo  (Mowgli 
could  hear  him  turn  in  his  wallow),  "  that  is  no 
man.  It  is  only  the  hairless  wolf  of  the.  Seeonee 
Pack.      On  such  nights  runs  he  to  and  fro." 

"  Uhh  !  "  said  the  cow,  dropping  her  head  again 
to  graze,  "  I  thought  it  was  Man." 

"  I  say  no.  Oh,  Mowgli,  is  it  danger  ?  "  lowed 
Mysa. 

"Oh,  Mowgli,  is  it  danger?"  the  boy  called 
back  mockingly.  "That  is  all  Mysa  thinks  for: 
Is  it  danger?  But  for  Mowgli,  who  goes  to  and 
fro  in  the  Jungle  by  night,  watching,  what  do 
ye  care  ? " 

"  How  loud  he  cries  !  "  said  the  cow. 

"  Thus  do  they  cry,"  Mysa  answered  contemp- 
tuously, "who,  having  torn  up  the  grass,  know 
not  how  to  eat  it." 

"  For  less  than  this,"  Mowgli  groaned  to  him- 
self—  "for  less  than  this  even  last  Rains  I  had 
pricked  Mysa  out  of  his  wallow,  and  ridden  him 
through  the  swamp  on  a  rush  halter."  He 
stretched  a  hand  to  break  one  of  the  feathery 
reeds,  but  drew  it  back  with  a  sigh.  Mysa  went 
on  steadily  chewing  the  cud,  and  the  long  grass 


THE   SPRING   RUNNING  303 

ripped  where  the  cow  grazed.  "  I  will  not  die 
here"  he  said  angrily.  "  Mysa,  who  is  of  one 
blood  with  Jacala  and  the  pig,  would  see  me. 
Let  us  go  beyond  the  swamp,  and  see  what 
comes.  Never  have  I  run  such  a  spring  running 
—  hot  and  cold  together.      Up,  Mowgli !  " 

He  could  not  resist  the  temptation  of  stealing 
across  the  reeds  to  Mysa  and  pricking  him  with 
the  point  of  his  knife.  The  great  dripping  bull 
broke  out  of  his  wallow  like  a  shell  exploding, 
while  Mowsdi  laughed  till  he  sat  down. 

"  Say  now  that  the  hairless  wolf  of  the  Seeonee 
Pack  once  herded  thee,  Mysa,"  he  called. 

"Wolf!  Thou?"  the  bull  snorted,  stamp- 
ing in  the  mud.  "  All  the  Jungle  knows  thou 
wast  a  herder  of  tame  cattle  —  such  a  man's  brat 
as  shouts  in  the  dust  by  the  crops  yonder.  Thou 
of  the  Jungle  !  What  hunter  would  have  crawled 
like  a  snake  among  the  leeches,  and  for  a  muddy 
jest  —  a  jackal's  jest  —  have  shamed  me  before 
my  cow?  Come  to  firm  ground,  and  I  will  —  I 
will  .  .  . "  Mysa  frothed  at  the  mouth,  for 
Mysa  has  nearly  the  worst  temper  of  any  one  in 
the  Jungle. 

Mowgli  watched  him  puff  and  blow  with  eyes 
that  never  changed.  When  he  could  make  him- 
self heard  through  the  spattering  mud,  he  said: 


304  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

"  What  Man-Pack  lair  here  by  the  marshes, 
Mysa?     This  is  new  jungle  to  me." 

"  Go  north,  then,"  roared  the  angry  bull,  for 
Mowgli  had  pricked  him  rather  sharply.  "  It  was 
a  naked  cowherd's  jest.  Go  and  tell  them  at  the 
village  at  the  foot  of  the  marsh." 

"The  Man-Pack  do  not  love  jungle-tales,  nor 
do  I  think,  Mysa,  that  a  scratch  more  or  less  on 
thy  hide  is  any  matter  for  a  council.  But  I  will 
go  and  look  at  this  village.  Yes,  I  will  go. 
Softly  now.  It  is  not  every  night  that  the  Mas- 
ter of  the  Jungle  comes  to  herd  thee." 

He  stepped  out  to  the  shivering  ground  on  the 
edge  of  the  marsh,  well  knowing  that  Mysa 
would  never  charge  over  it,  and  laughed,  as  he 
ran,  to  think  of  the  bull's  anger. 

"  My  strength  is  not  altogether  gone,"  he  said. 
"  It  may  be  that  the  poison  is  not  to  the  bone. 
There  is  a  star  sitting  low  yonder."  He  looked 
at  it  between  his  half-shut  hands.  "  By  the  Bull 
that  bought  me,  it  is  the  Red  Flower — the  Red 
Flower  that  I  lay  beside  before  —  before  I  came 
even  to  the  first  Seeonee  Pack  !  Now  that  I  have 
seen,  I  will  finish  the  running." 

The  marsh  ended  in  a  broad  plain  where  a  light 
twinkled.  It  was  a  long  time  since  Mowgli  had 
concerned    himself  with   the  doings  of  men,  but 


THE   SPRING   RUNNING  305 

this  night  the  glimmer  of  the  Red  Flower  drew 
him  forward. 

"I  will  look,"  said  he,  "as  I  did  in  the  old 
days,  and  I -will  see  how  far  the  Man- Pack  has 
changed." 

Forgetting  that  he  was  no  longer  in  his  own 
jungle,  where  he  could  do  what  he  pleased,  he 
trod  carelessly  through  the  dew-loaded  grasses 
till  he  came  to  the  hut  where  the  ligdit  stood. 
Three  or  four  yelping  dogs  gave  tongue,  for  he 
was  on  the  outskirts  of  a  village. 

"Ho!"  said  Mowgli,  sitting  down  noiselessly, 
after  sending  back  a  deep  wolf-growl  that  silenced 
the  curs.  "  What  comes  will  come.  Mowgli, 
what  hast  thou  to  do  any  more  with  the  lairs  of 
the  Man-Pack?"  He  rubbed  his  mouth,  remem- 
bering where  a  stone  had  struck  it  years  ago  when 
the  other  Man-Pack  had  cast  him  out. 

The  door  of  the  hut  opened,  and  a  woman 
stood  peering  out  into  the  darkness.  A  child 
cried,  and  the  woman  said  over  her  shoulder, 
"  Sleep.  It  was  but  a  jackal  that  waked  the 
dogs.      In  a  little  time  morning  comes." 

Mowgli  in  the  gfrass  begfan  to  shake  as  though 
he  had  fever.  He  knew  that  voice  well,  but  to 
make  sure  he  cried  softly,  surprised  to  find  how 
man's  talk  came  back,  "  Messua  !   O  Messua  !  " 


306  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

"  Who  calls  ?  "  said  the  woman,  a  quiver  in  her 
voice. 

"Hast  thou  forgotten?"  said  Mowgli.  His 
throat  was  dry  as  he  spoke. 

"  If  it  be  thou,  what  name  did  I  give  thee  ? 
Say  !  "  She  had  half  shut  the  door,  and  her  hand 
was  clutching  at  her  breast. 

"  Nathoo  !  Ohe  Nathoo  !  "  said  Mowgli,  for, 
as  you  remember,  that  was  the  name  Messua 
gave  him  when  he  first  came  to  the  Man- Pack. 

"  Come,  my  son,"  she  called,  and  Mowgli 
stepped  into  the  light,  and  looked  full  at  Messua, 
the  woman  who  had  been  good  to  him,  and  whose 
life  he  had  saved  from  the  Man- Pack  so  long  be- 
fore. She  was  older,  and  her  hair  was  gray,  but 
her  eyes  and  her  voice  had  not  changed.  Wo- 
man-like, she  expected  to  find  Mowgli  where  she 
had  left  him,  and  her  eyes  traveled  upward  in  a 
puzzled  way  from  his  chest  to  his  head,  that 
touched  the  top  of  the  door. 

"  My  son,"  she  stammered;  and  then,  sinking 
to  his  feet :  "  But  it  is  no  longer  my  son.  It  is  a 
Godling  of  the  Woods!    Ahai !  " 

As  he  stood  in  the  red  light  of  the  oil-lamp, 
strong,  tall,  and  beautiful,  his  long  black  hair 
sweeping  over  his  shoulders,  the  knife  swinging 
at  his  neck,  and  his  head  crowned  with  a  wreath 


THE   SPRING   RUNNING  307 

of  white  jasmine,  he  might  easily  have  been  mis- 
taken for  some  wild  god  of  a  jungle  legend.  The 
child  half  asleep  on  a  cot  sprang  up  and  shrieked 
aloud  with  terror.  Messua  turned  to  soothe  him, 
while  Mowgli  stood  still,  looking  in  at  the  water- 
jars  and  the  cooking-pots,  the  grain-bin,  and  all 
the  other  human  belongings  that  he  found  himself 
remembering  so  well. 

"  What  wilt  thou  eat  or  drink  ?  "  Messua  mur- 
mured. "  This  is  all  thine.  We  owe  our  lives  to 
thee.  But  art  thou  him  I  called  Nathoo,  or  a 
Godling,  indeed  ?  " 

"  I  am  Nathoo,"  said  Mowgli,  "  I  am  very  far 
from  my  own  place.  I  saw  this  light,  and  came 
hither.      I  did  not  know  thou  wast  here." 

"After  we  came  to  Kanhiwara,"  Messua  said 
timidly,  "  the  English  would  have  helped  us 
against  those  villagers  that  sought  to  burn  us. 
Rememberest  thou  ? " 

"  Indeed,   I  have  not  forgotten." 

"  But  when  the  English  Law  was  made  ready, 
we  went  to  the  village  of  those  evil  people,  and 
it  was  no  more  to  be  found." 

"That  also  I  remember,"  said  Mowgli,  with  a 
quiver  of  his  nostril. 

"  My  man,  therefore,  took  service  in  the  fields, 
and  at  last — for,  indeed,  he  was  a  strong  man — 


308  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

we  held  a  little  land  here.  It  is  not  so  rich  as 
the  old  village,  but  we  do  not  need  much  —  we 
two." 

"Where  is  he — the  man  that  dug  in  the  dirt 
when  he  was  afraid  on  that  night?" 

"  He  is  dead — a  year." 

"And  he?"     Mowgli  pointed  to  the  child. 

"  My  son  that  was  born  two  Rains  ago.  If 
thou  art  a  Godling,  give  him  the  Favor  of  the 
Jungle,  that  he  may  be  safe  among  thy  —  thy 
people,  as  we  were  safe  on  that  night." 

She  lifted  up  the  child,  who,  forgetting  his 
fright,  reached  out  to  play  with  the  knife  that 
hung  on  Mowgli's  chest,  and  Mowgli  put  the  lit- 
tle fingers  aside  very  carefully. 

"And  if  thou  art  Nathoo  whom  the  tigers  car- 
ried away,"  Messua  went  on,  choking,  "he  is 
then  thy  younger  brother.  Give  him  an  elder 
brother's  blessing." 

"  Hai-mai  /  What  do  I  know  of  the  thing 
called  a  blessing?  I  am  neither  a  Godling  nor  his 
brother,  and  —  O  mother,  mother,  my  heart  is 
heavy  in  me."  He  shivered  as  he  set  down  the 
child. 

"  Like  enough,"  said  Messua,  bustling  among 
the  cooking-pots.  "  This  comes  of  running  about 
the    marshes    by   night.      Beyond    question,  the 


THE   SPRING   RUNNING  309 

fever  has  soaked  thee  to  the  marrow."  Mowgli 
smiled  a  little  at  the  idea  of  anything  in  the  Jun- 
gle hurting  him.  "  I  will  make  a  fire,  and  thou 
shalt  drink  warm  milk.  Put  away  the  jasmine 
wreath :  the  smell  is  heavy  in  so  small  a  place." 

Mowgli  sat  down,  muttering,  with  his  face  in  his 
hands.  All  manner  of  strange  feelings  that  he 
had  never  felt  before  were  running  over  him,  ex- 
actly as  though  he  had  been  poisoned,  and  he 
felt  dizzy  and  a  little  sick.  He  drank  the  warm 
milk  in  long  gulps,  Messua  patting  him  on  the 
shoulder  from  time  to  time,  not  quite  sure  whe- 
ther he  were  her  son  Nathoo  of  the  long-  ago 
days,  or  some  wonderful  Jungle  being,  but  glad 
to  feel  that  he  was  at  least  flesh  and  blood. 

"  Son,"  she  said  at  last, — her  eyes  were  full  of 
pride, — "  have  any  told  thee  that  thou  art  beauti- 
ful beyond  all  men  ?  " 

"  Hah  ? "  said  Mowgli,  for  naturally  he  had 
never  heard  anything  of  the  kind.  Messua 
laughed  softly  and  happily.  The  look  in  his 
face  was  enough  for  her. 

"  I  am  the  first,  then  ?  It  is  right,  though  it 
comes  seldom,  that  a  mother  should  tell  her  son 
these  good  things.  Thou  art  very  beautiful. 
Never  have  I  looked  upon  such  a  man." 

Mowgli  twisted  his  head  and  tried  to  see  over 


310  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

his  own  hard  shoulder,  and  Messua  laughed 
again  so  long  that  Mowgli,  not  knowing  why, 
was  forced  to  laugh  with  her,  and  the  child  ran 
from  one  to  the  other,  laughing  too. 
i  "  Nay,  thou  must  not  mock  thy  brother,"  said 
Messua,  catching  him  to  her  breast.  "  When 
thou  art  one  half  as  fair  we  will  marry  thee  to 
the  youngest  daughter  of  a  king,  and  thou  shalt 
ride  great  elephants." 

Mowgli  could  not  understand  one  word  in 
three  of  the  talk  here  ;  the  warm  milk  was  taking 
effect  on  him  after  his  long  run,  so  he  curled  up 
and  in  a  minute  was  deep  asleep,  and  Messua 
put  the  hair  back  from  his  eyes,  threw  a  cloth 
over  him,  and  was  happy.  Jungle-fashion,  he 
slept  out  the  rest  of  that  night  and  all  the  next 
day ;  for  his  instincts,  which  never  wholly  slept, 
warned  him  there  was  nothing  to  fear.  He 
waked  at  last  with  a  bound  that  shook  the  hut, 
for  the  cloth  over  his  face  made  him  dream  of 
traps ;  and  there  he  stood,  his  hand  on  his  knife, 
the  sleep  all  heavy  in  his  rolling  eyes,  ready  for 
any  fight. 

Messua  laughed,  and  set  the  evening  meal  be- 
fore him.  There  were  only  a  few  coarse  cakes 
baked  over  the  smoky  fire,  some  rice,  and  a  lump 
of  sour  preserved  tamarinds  — just  enough  to  go 


THE   SPRING   RUNNING  311 

on  with  till  he  could  get  to  his  evening  kill.  The 
smell  of  the  dew  in  the  marshes  made  him  hungry 
and  restless.  He  wanted  to  finish  his  spring 
running,  but  the  child  insisted  on  sitting  in  his 
arms,  and  Messua  would  have  it  that  his  long, 
blue-black  hair  must  be  combed  out.  So  she 
sang,  as  she  combed,  foolish  little  baby-songs, 
now  calling  Mowgli  her  son,  and  now  begging 
him  to  give  some  of  his  jungle  power  to  the  child. 
The  hut  door  was  closed,  but  Mowgli  heard  a 
sound  he  knew  well,  and  saw  Messua's  jaw  drop 
with  horror  as  a  great  gray  paw  came  under  the 
bottom  of  the  door,  and  Gray  Brother  outside 
whined  a  muffled  and  penitent  whine  of  anxiety 
and  fear. 

"Out  and  wait!  Ye  would  not  come  when  I 
called,"  said  Mowgli  in  jungle-talk,  without  turn- 
ing his  head,  and  the  great  gray  paw  disappeared. 

"  Do  not  —  do  not  bring  thy  —  thy  servants 
with  thee,"  said  Messua.  "I  — we  have  always 
lived  at  peace  with  the  Jungle." 

"It  is  peace,"  said  Mowgli,  rising.  "Think 
of  that  night  on  the  road  to  Kanhiwara.  There 
were  scores  of  such  folk  before  thee  and  behind 
thee.  But  I  see  that  even  in  springtime  the 
Jungle  People  do  not  always  forget.  Mother, 
I  go." 


312  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

Messua  drew  aside  humbly  —  he  was  indeed  a 
wood-god,  she  thought ;  but  as  his  hand  was  on 
the  door  the  mother  in  her  made  her  throw  her 
arms  round  Mowgli's  neck  again  and  again. 

"Come  back!"  she  whispered.  "Son  or  no 
son,  come  back,  for  I  love  thee  —  Look,  he  too 
grieves." 

The  child  was  crying  because  the  man  with 
the  shiny  knife  was  going  away. 

"Come  back  again,"  Messua  repeated.  "By 
night  or  by  day  this  door  is  never  shut  to  thee." 

Mowgli's  throat  worked  as  though  the  cords  in 
it  were  being  pulled,  and  his  voice  seemed  to  be 
dragged  from  it  as  he  answered,  "  I  will  surely 
come  back." 

"And  now,"  he  said,  as  he  put  by  the  head 
of  the  fawning  wolf  on  the  threshold,  "  I  have 
a  little  cry  against  thee,  Gray  Brother.  Why 
came  ye  not  all  four  when  I  called  so  long 
ago? 

"  So  long  ago  ?  It  was  but  last  night.  I  — 
we  —  were  singing  in  the  Jungle  the  new  songs, 
for  this  is  the  Time  of  New  Talk.  Rememberest 
thou  ?  " 

"Truly,  truly." 

"And  as  soon  as  the  songs  were  sung,"  Gray 
Brother  went  on  earnestly,  "  I  followed  thy  trail. 


THE   SPRING    RUNNING  313 

I  ran  from  all  the  others  and  followed  hot-foot. 
But,  O  Little  Brother,  what  hast  thou  done, 
eating  and  sleeping  with  the  Man-Pack?" 

"  If  ye  had  come  when  I  called,  this  had  never 
been,"  said  Mowgli,  running  much  faster. 

"  And  now  what  is  to  be  ?  "  said  Gray  Brother. 

Mowgli  was  just  going  to  answer  when  a  girl 
in  a  white  cloth  came  down  some  path  that  led 
from  the  outskirts  of  the  village.  Gray  Brother 
dropped  out  of  sight  at  once,  and  Mowgli  backed 
noiselessly  into  a  field  of  high-springing  crops. 
He  could  almost  have  touched  her  with  his  hand 
when  the  warm,  green  stalks  closed  before  his 
face  and  he  disappeared  like  a  ghost.  The  girl 
screamed,  for  she  thought  she  had  seen  a  spirit, 
and  then  she  gave  a  deep  sigh.  Mowgli  parted 
the  stalks  with  his  hands  and  watched  her  till  she 
was  out  of  sight. 

"And  now  I  do  not  know,"  he  said,  sighing  in 
his  turn.     "  Why  did  ye  not  come  when  I  called?" 

"We  follow  thee  —  we  follow  thee,"  Gray 
Brother  mumbled,  licking  at  Mowgli's  heel. 
"  We  follow  thee  always,  except  in  the  Time  of 
the  New  Talk." 

"  And  would  ye  follow  me  to  the  Man-Pack  ?  " 
Mowgli  whispered. 

"  Did  I  not  follow  thee  on  the  night  our  old 


314  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

Pack  cast  thee  out?  Who  waked  thee  lying 
among  the  crops  ?  " 

"  Ay,  but  again  ?  " 

"  Have  I  not  followed  thee  to-night?  " 

"Ay,  but  again  and  again,  and  it  may  be 
again,   Gray  Brother  ?  " 

Gray  Brother  was  silent.  When  he  spoke  he 
growled  to  himself,  "  The  Black  One  spoke  truth." 

"And  he  said?" 

"  Man  goes  to  Man  at  the  last.  Raksha,  our 
mother,  said  —  " 

"  So  also  said  Akela  on  the  night  of  Red  Dog," 
Mowgli  muttered. 

"  So  also  says  Kaa,  who  is  wiser  than  us  all." 

"What  dost  thou  say,  Gray  Brother?" 

"  They  cast  thee  out  once,  with  bad  talk.  They 
cut  thy  mouth  with  stones.  They  sent  Buldeo 
to  slay  thee.  They  would  have  thrown  thee  into 
the  Red  Flower.  Thou,  and  not  I,  hast  said  that 
they  are  evil  and  senseless.  Thou,  and  not  I  — 
I  follow  my  own  people  —  didst  let  in  the  Jungle 
upon  them.  Thou,  and  not  I,  didst  make  song 
against  them  more  bitter  even  than  our  song 
against  Red  Dog." 

"  I  ask  thee  what  thou  say  est?  " 

They  were  talking  as  they  ran.  Gray  Brother 
cantered  on  a  while  without  replying,   and  then 


THE   SPRING   RUNNING  315 

he  said, —  between  bound  and  bound  as  it  were, 
—  "  Man  -cub  —  Master  of  the  Jungle  —  Son  of 
Raksha,  Lair-brother  to  me  —  though  I  forget 
for  a  little  while  in  the  spring,  thy  trail  is  my 
trail,  thy  lair  is  my  lair,  thy  kill  is  my  kill,  and 
thy  death-fight  is  my  death-fight.  I  speak  for 
the  Three.  But  what  wilt  thou  say  to  the 
Jungle  ? " 

"  That  is  well  thought.  Between  the  sight  and 
the  kill  it  is  not  good  to  wait.  Go  before  and 
cry  them  all  to  the  Council  Rock,  and  I  will  tell 
them  what  is  in  my  stomach.  But  they  may  not 
come — in  the  Time  of  New  Talk  they  may  for- 
get me." 

"  Hast  thou,  then,  forgotten  nothing  ?  "  snapped 
Gray  Brother  over  his  shoulder,  as  he  laid  him- 
self down  to  gallop,  and  Mowgli  followed,  thinking. 

At  any  other  season  the  news  would  have 
called  all  the  Jungle  together  with  bristling  necks, 
but  now  they  were  busy  hunting  and  fighting 
and  killing  and  singing.  From  one  to  another 
Gray  Brother  ran,  crying,  "The  Master  of  the 
Jungle  goes  back  to  Man  !  Come  to  the  Council 
Rock."  And  the  happy,  eager  People  only 
answered,  "  He  will  return  in  the  summer  heats. 
The  Rains  will  drive  him  to  lair.  Run  and  sing 
with  us,  Gray  Brother." 


316  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

"  But  the  Master  of  the  Jungle  goes  back  to 
Man,"  Gray  Brother  would  repeat. 

"  Eee  —  Yoawa?  Is  the  Time  of  New  Talk 
any  less  sweet  for  that  ?  "  they  would  reply.  So 
when  Mowgli,  heavy-hearted,  came  up  through 
the  well-remembered  rocks  to  the  place  where 
he  had  been  brought  into  the  Council,  he  found 
only  the  Four,  Baloo,  who  was  nearly  blind  with 
age,  and  the  heavy,  cold-blooded  Kaa  coiled 
around  Akela's  empty  seat. 

"Thy  trail  ends  here,  then,  Manling?"  said 
Kaa,  as  Mowgli  threw  himself  down,  his  face  in 
his  hands.  "  Cry  thy  cry."  We  be  of  one  blood, 
thou  and  I  —  man  and  snake  together." 

"Why  did  I  not  die  under  Red  Dog?"  the 
boy  moaned.  "  My  strength  is  gone  from  me, 
and  it  is  not  any  poison.  By  night  and  by 
day  I  hear  a  double  step  upon  my  trail.  When 
I  turn  my  head  it  is  as  though  one  had  hidden 
himself  from  me  that  instant.  I  go  to  look  be- 
hind the  trees,  and  he  is  not  there.  I  call  and 
none  cry  again ;  but  it  is  as  though  one  listened 
and  kept  back  the  answer.  I  lie  down,  but  I 
do  not  rest.  I  run  the  spring  running,  but  I  am 
not  made  still.  I  bathe,  but  I  am  not  made  cool. 
The  kill  sickens  me,  but  I  have  no  heart  to  fight 
except  I  kill.     The  Red  Flower  is  in  my  body, 


THE   SPRING   RUNNING  317 

my  bones  are  water — and — I  know  not  what 
I  know." 

"  What  need  of  talk  ?  "  said  Baloo  slowly,  turn- 
ing his  head  to  where  Mowgli  lay.  "  Akela  by  the 
river  said  it,  that  Mowgli  should  drive  Mowgli 
back  to  the  Man- Pack.  I  said  it.  But  who  listens 
now  to  Baloo?  Bagheera  —  where  is  Bagheera 
this   night? — he   knows   also.     It  is  the   Law." 

"  When  we  met  at  Cold  Lairs,  Manling,  I 
knew  it,"  said  Kaa,  turning  a  little  in  his  mighty 
coils.  "  Man  goes  to  Man  at  the  last,  though 
the  Jungle  does  not  cast  him  out." 

The  Four  looked  at  one  another  and  at  Mow- 
gli, puzzled  but  obedient. 

"The  Jungle  does  not  cast  me  out,  then?" 
Mowgli  stammered. 

Gray  Brother  and  the  Three  growled  furi- 
ously, beginning,  "  So  long  as  we  live  none  shall 
dare — "     But  Baloo  checked  them. 

"  I  taught  thee  the  Law.  It  is  for  me  to 
speak,"  he  said;  "and,  though  I  cannot  now  see 
the  rocks  before  me,  I  see  far.  Little  Frog, 
take  thine  own  trail ;  make  thy  lair  with  thine 
own  blood  and  pack  and  people ;  but  when  there 
is  need  of  foot  or  tooth  or  eye,  or  a  word  carried 
swiftly  by  night,  remember,  Master  of  the  Jungle, 
the  Jungle  is  thine  at  call." 


318  THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

"  The  Middle  Jungle  is  thine  also,"  said  Kaa. 
11 1  speak  for  no  small  people." 

"  Hai-mai,  my  brothers,"  cried  Mowgli,  throw- 
ing up  his  arms  with  a  sob.  "  I  know  not  what 
F  know !  I  would  not  go;  but  I  am  drawn  by 
both  feet.      How  shall  I  leave  these  nights  ?  " 

"  Nay,  look  up,  Little  Brother,"  Baloo  repeated. 
"There  is  no  shame  in  this  hunting.  When  the 
honey  is  eaten  we  leave  the  empty  hive." 

"Having  cast  the  skin,"  said  Kaa,  "we  may 
not  creep  into  it  afresh.     It  is  the  Law." 

"Listen,  dearest  of  all  to  me,"  said  Baloo. 
"There  is  neither  word  nor  will  here  to  hold 
thee  back.  Look  up !  Who  may  question  the 
Master  of  the  Jungle?  I  saw  thee  playing 
among  the  white  pebbles  yonder  when  thou  wast 
a  little  frog ;  and  Bagheera,  that  bought  thee  for 
the  price  of  a  young  bull  newly  killed,  saw  thee 
also.  Of  that  Looking  Over  we  two  only  re- 
main ;  for  Raksha,  thy  lair-mother,  is  dead  with 
thy  lair-father ;  the  old  Wolf  Pack  is  long  since 
dead ;  thou  knowest  whither  Shere  Khan  went, 
and  Akela  died  among  the  dholes,  where,  but  for 
thy  wisdom  and  strength,  the  second  Seeonee 
Pack  would  also  have  died.  There  remains  no- 
thing but  old  bones.       It  is  no  longer  the  Man- 


THE   SPRING   RUNNING  319 

cub  that  asks  leave  of  his  Pack,  but  the  Master 
of  the  Jungle  that  changes  his  trail.  Who  shall 
question  Man  in  his  ways?" 

"  But  Bagheera  and  the  Bull  that  bought  me," 
said  Mowgli.      "  I  would  not — " 

His  words  were  cut  short  by  a  roar  and  a  crash 
in  the  thicket  below,  and  Bagheera,  light,  strong, 
and  terrible  as  always,  stood  before  him. 

"  Therefore"  he  said,  stretching  out  a  dripping 
right  paw,  "  I  did  not  come.  It  was  a  long  hunt, 
but  he  lies  dead  in  the  bushes  now — a  bull  in  his 
second  year  —  the  Bull  that  frees  thee,  Little 
Brother.  All  debts  are  paid  now.  For  the  rest, 
my  word  is  Baloo's  word."  He  licked  Mowgli's 
foot.  "  Remember,  Bagheera  loved  thee,"  he 
cried  and  bounded  away.  At  the  foot  of  the  hill 
he  cried  again  long  and  loud,  "  Good  hunting  on 
a  new  trail,  Master  of  the  Jungle !  Remember, 
Bagheera  loved  thee." 

"Thou  hast  heard,"  said  Baloo.  "There  is  no 
more.  Go  now ;  but  first  come  to  me.  O  wise 
Little  Frog,  come  to  me  !  " 

"It  is  hard  to  cast  the  skin,"  said  Kaa  as 
Mowgli  sobbed  and  sobbed,  with  his  head  on 
the  blind  bear's  side  and  his  arms  round  his  neck, 
while  Baloo  tried  feebly  to  lick  his  feet. 


320 


THE    SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 


"  The  stars  are  thin,"  said  Gray  Brother,  snuff- 
ing' at  the  dawn-wind.  "  Where  shall  we  lair 
to-day?  for,  from  now,  we  follow  new  trails." 


And  this  is  the  last  of  the  Mowgli  stories. 


THE   OUTSONG 

This  is  the  song  that  Mowgli  heard  behind  him  in  the 
Jungle  till  he  came  to  Messua's  door  again : 

BALOO — 

as33S^OR  the  sake  of  him  who  showed 

One  wise  Frog  the  Jungle-Road, 
Keep  the  Law  the  Man-Pack  make  — 
For  thy  blind  old  Baloo's  sake  ! 
Clean  or  tainted,  hot  or  stale, 
Hold  it  as  it  were  the  Trail, 
Through  the  day  and  through  the  night, 
Questing  neither  left  nor  right. 
For  the  sake  of  him  who  loves 
Thee  beyond  all  else  that  moves, 
When  thy  Pack  would  make  thee  pain, 
Say:   " Tabaqui  sings  again." 
When  thy  Pack  would  work  thee  ill, 


322  THE   SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 

Say :   "  Shere  Khan  is  yet  to  kill." 
When  the  knife  is  drawn  to  slay, 
Keep  the  Law  and  go  thy  way. 
(Root  and  honey,  palm  and  spathe, 
Guard  a  cub  from  harm  and  scathe  !) 
Wood  and  Water,  Wind  and  Tree, 
Jungle- Favor  go  with  thee  ! 


Kaa— 


Anger  is  the  egg  of  Fear  — 
Only  lidless  eyes  are  clear. 
Cobra-poison  none  may  leech ; 
Even  so  with  Cobra-speech. 
Open  talk  shall  call  to  thee 
Strength,  whose  mate  is  Courtesy. 
Send  no  lunge  beyond  thy  length ; 
Lend  no  rotten  bough  thy  strength. 
Gauge  thy  gape  with  buck  or  goat, 
Lest  thine  eye  should  choke  thy  throat. 
After  gorging,  wouldst  thou  sleep, 
Look  the  den  is  hid  and  deep, 
Lest  a  wrong,  by  thee  forgot, 
Draw  thy  killer  to  the  spot. 
East  and  West  and  North  and  South, 
Wash  thy  hide  and  close  thy  mouth. 
(Pit  and  rift  and  blue  pool-brim, 
Middle  Jungle  follow  him  !) 
Wood  and  Water,  Wind  and  Tree, 
Jungle -Favor  go  with  thee  ! 


THE   OUTSONG  323 

BAGHEERA — 

In  the  cage  my  life  began ; 
Well  I  know  the  worth  of  Man. 
By  the  Broken  Lock  that  freed  — 
Man-cub,  'ware  the  Man-cub's  breed  ! 
Scenting- dew  or  starlight  pale, 
Choose  no  tangled  tree-cat  trail. 
Pack  or  council,  hunt  or  den, 
Cry  no  truce  with  Jackal-Men. 
Feed  them  silence  when  they  say : 
"  Come  with  us  an  easy  way." 
Feed  them  silence  when  they  seek 
Help  of  thine  to  hurt  the  weak. 
Make  no  bandar's  boast  of  skill ; 
Hold  thy  peace  above  the  kill. 
Let  nor  call  nor  song  nor  sign 
Turn  thee  from  thy  hunting-line. 
(Morning  mist  or  twilight  clear, 
Serve  him,  Wardens  of  the  Deer  !) 
Wood  and  Water,  Wind  and  Tree, 
Jungle- Favor  go  with  thee! 

The  Three  — 

On  the  trail  that  thou  must  tread 
To  the  thresholds  of  our  dread, 
Where  the  Flower  blossoms  red  ; 
Through  the  nights  when  thou  shall  lie 
Prisoned  from  our  Mother- sky, 


324 


THE  SECOND   JUNGLE   BOOK 


Hearing  us,  thy  loves,  go  by  ; 
In  the  dawns,  when  thou  shalt  wake 
To  the  toil  thou  canst  not  break, 
Heartsick  for  the  Jungle's  sake : 
Wood  and  Water,   Wind  and  Tree, 
Wisdom,  Strength,  and  Courtesy, 
Jungle-Favor  go  with  thee  / 


